Broken Circle
by LittleChicago
Summary: Fifth and final chapter in the Broken series. Harry's life has changed, but one thing stays the same: the Black Council - The Circle - still have plans, and Harry's still standing in the way. But he won't stand alone. It all comes down to this...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Well, this is it - the final part of this series. A big thanks to everyone who's come along for the ride so far; I really appreciate it. I hope this story wraps up the series for you in a satisfactory way. It may take a few months to finish, mind you - Harry's about to run into just about everyone he's ever known - including a few he thought he was rid of. Anyway, enjoy!

Broken Circle

My hand tightened on the stone in frustration, and a little anger crept into my voice. "I'm being watched, Sir. The FBI think I'm a terrorist."

On the other side of a dark expanse, Ebenezar McCoy was far calmer than I. He absently scratched at his wispy white beard with a large, muscular hand. "I know, Hoss. But I have no influence with the FBI."

"I know, Sir. But… doesn't someone? Someone on the _council_?" I emphasised the last word, ever so slightly.

McCoy lifted a finger to me. "Be careful, boy. Just because this conversation is all in our heads, don't think no one else can hear it." He lowered his hand and sighed. "Look, I know how much you've gone through lately, how much you've lost. But you have to stop and think rationally."

I shrugged. "You're right. I guess I was just a little hot under the collar because the weather's been crap for three straight weeks." He nodded, mollified. "And I've been put on a domestic watch-list." One of his eyebrows went up, and my voice took on a cold edge. "And my apprentice was chased into the Nevernever, fleeing for her life." He took a breath. "And my freaking house was burned down by an angry Fallen Angel!"

"I get it, Harry. And I'm sorry." My teacher, my grandfather, sighed and deflated. He didn't respond with anger, which I had been expecting, and kind of hoping for. He was tired. No, that wasn't quite right. He was _weary_.

I'd barely spoken to the old man in three weeks. Something had been taking its toll on him, too. Some of the fire went out of my belly. He continued, "I know you've suffered a lot, especially lately. And I wish I could've stopped it all." Some colour returned to his cheeks. "But you've got to understand you're not the only one. Titania, or whatever she's become, has been hitting all kinds of targets this past month. Crippling several of our _friends_."

A-ha. Note the use of emphasis. He was talking about the Grey Council.

"But beyond all of that," he said, "there's the balance issue. I know, a hit against the Summer Court of the Fae would likely cripple the Black Council, or the Circle, or whatever the hell they call themselves. But, and you have to remember, it would throw the Summer and Winter Courts out of balance. And that could have enormous repercussions."

I grimaced. He was right. The Circle, a sort-of supernatural Legion of Doom, had been building toward… well, something, for the last few years, and lately, all signs pointed to endgame.

Unfortunately for the only professional wizard in the Chicago phone book, my city seemed to figure in their plans. Somehow, I'd managed to get caught up in those plans a few times over the years, and ruined them. A while back, the Circle had decided killing me was the best way to stop that from happening anymore, but I was their rotten apple.

Titania, Queen of Land and Light, Queen of the Summer Court of the Sidhe, was the brains behind the Circle. Unfortunately, I'd recently learned she was also pretty cracked, thanks to an Outsider that called itself He Who Walks Behind. Or Legion, if you've heard of him.

Sigh. I need a flow chart to keep it all straight.

"So," I said slowly, "you're saying we can't hit back, Sir? After everything they've done, everything they're responsible for, she gets off on diplomatic immunity?" I couldn't keep the frustration out of my voice.

A cold, hard smile appeared on his lips, and some life jumped back into his eyes. This was the Ebenezar I knew. "Hell's bells, boy, of course not. I mean we need to wait… until we can hit both Courts at the same time."

My eyebrows spocked themselves. "Um. What?"

"You heard me, Hoss."

I blinked. I had not been expecting this. "Uh, I thought we were on good terms with Winter. Mab lets us use the Ways, and she hasn't tried to get me killed recently."

"True, but who knows what her motives are? And we have to maintain the balance, boy. You think there's any chance at all that Mab won't press an advantage if we hit at the heart of Summer?"

I blew air threw my nose and made a face, but neither action changed what I knew: Mab would destroy Summer if the opportunity presented itself. That action would eventually sink Earth into an ice age from which it would never recover. "No, I don't. She'd press it, and we'd all get crushed."

"Exactly."

"But going after both Courts, at the same time… you must have a few heavyweights in the Grey Corner, Sir."

He snorted. "You might say that." He looked down and drew out an old pocket watch. "Gotta go, Hoss. I'll get in touch in a day or two, when I know more."

I nodded, respectfully. "See you then, Sir." I watch McCoy extend his hand out over the edge of the circle he sat in, and he vanished.

Actually, the whole dark room we were talking in vanished, to be replaced by Karrin Murphy's spare bedroom. I made an effort of will, and broke the circle of sand I sat cross-legged in. Feeling the return of magic circulating around my skin, I sighed and turned to my left. Mouse, a dog the same size as I am, looked at me with remarkably intelligent eyes. "Well," I said, "that was interesting."

I turned to my right, and saw the shortest, blondest, cutest, deadliest woman I knew sitting on the bed. "What's interesting?" Karrin Murphy asked.

I explained what McCoy had said while I stood and got the blood flowing through my legs again.

Murph's brows furrowed and her arms crossed themselves. "I see his point, but wouldn't hitting both Queens be impossible? I mean, aren't each of them as strong as the Senior Council?"

"Actually, Mab or Titania could each probably wipe the floor with the entire White Council on their own, unless we got ridiculously lucky. The amount of power required to take them down… I'm pretty sure it doesn't exist. Or at least, human beings aren't capable." I dropped the calling stone on the dresser I had been using for the last few weeks, among several other decoy stones.

Murph thought for a moment, and I rubbed my knees. They'd taken a lot of punishment over the years, and sitting for a long time tended to make them cramp up. Of course, being a wizard, if I stopped hurting them, they'd heal up good as new, eventually. Unfortunately, my life rarely allowed for time to breathe, let alone heal.

"If she's so strong," Murphy asked, "how did we survive the raid on Arctis Tor? You told me she was there, watching us."

"Simple. Mab wanted us to."

"She _wanted_ us to rescue Molly? After her people – no, wait, that's wrong." She looked at me, her eyes asking a question.

"Phages," I supplied.

"After her phages kidnapped Molly?"

I twisted and cracked my back, producing a satisfying series of pops. "Yes." I shook my head. "I still don't know what Mab's motives are. Sometimes, she's easy to read. Mostly, though, she's like trying to solve a Rubik's Cube in the dark."

Murphy leaned forward on her knees, then absently touched a wooden walking stick lying on the bed next to her. I nodded at it. "Awaiting divine inspiration?"

She glanced up at me. "Hmm? Oh, no. I guess I just find it… reassuring." She didn't remove her hand, though. I understood. I'd seen Michael Carpenter, Molly's father, use the sword he once carried in much the same way. I wasn't surprised that Murph, as the newest member of the Knights of the Cross, had developed the same habit. The Swords of the Cross were items of remarkable power.

"It really hasn't done anything supernatural since we left the island," she said. "But the air in this town has just felt… off lately."

"Michael once told me _Amoracchius_ could be quiet for weeks at a time, then keep him busy for months straight." I picked up my staff. The way things had gone in the last few months, I also didn't like being away from my tools or weapons.

She smiled out one side of her mouth. "Then I'm about due for a busy phase."

"If you say so. You're the Knight."

She rolled her eyes at me. "You go running today?"

I nodded. "Yeah." I sighed. "Could only keep up a pace for six minutes."

"Harry, I know you used to run half-marathons, but you had a heart attack 3 weeks ago. I don't know how you keep up any pace at all."

"Foolish mortal," I said in a big voice. "Mighty wizard."

"Uh-huh. How's Elaine?"

I lost all of my bravado. "Oh, you know. We've been out to dinner and the movies a couple of times. She's helping me look for a place, but things are a little tight, until the insurance cheques come in."

"So you two haven't… you know?"

"Oh, come on Murph, you're killing me."

"I'm just asking a question."

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."

"Well, I can accuse you of many things, Harry Dresden, but not being a gentleman isn't one of them."

"Thank you," I said. I still felt awkward. "So… how's Graver?" I was making conversation, but Murph and her PI partner had been getting along beautifully.

She stood. "Oh, Vince is fine. Work's steady, and so is the pay, so he's happy. He wants me to stay longer, but I told him I'm definitely leaving town after New Year's." She paused. "He still asks about Molly." Mouse stood, too, and Murph gave him a scratch behind the ears, which he loved. He led her out to the living room and its many doilies. I followed, thoughts of Molly and the Council's actions against her giving rise to anger.

"Yeah, well, we'd all like to know what happened to her."

"The Council never found her. That could be a good thing."

"They gave up when they figured out that Klaus Schneider is Cowl. Bigger fish, and all that. They finally decided hunting down a crazed necromancer is more important than a lowly apprentice who's never killed anybody."

I like to think that I manage to keep my emotions under control. I like to think that I can separate personal feelings from politics. I like to think that I know when I'm angry.

I like to think a lot of things. Doesn't make them all true.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Your staff is shaking."

I looked down, and sure enough, my carved oak staff was vibrating in my hand. I was shaking in anger. I put it up against the wall and crossed my arms.

"I've said it before, Dresden. What happened to her isn't your fault."

"I was off chasing my own questions when I should have been training her, Karrin. How is it not my fault?"

"I only meant that it's a stupid rule in the first place."

I snorted. "Yeah, I'll give you that. But if I hadn't disappeared for a month, that mess would have been avoided."

"And no one would know about the Jade Court's involvement with the Circle. You made a choice, there was a consequence."

"You trying to say I should be zen about it? No good deed, and all that?"

She shrugged. "I was going to say, 'shit happens', but your way's more eloquent."

I smirked and glanced to the side. I caught sight of the twilit street through a crack in the drapes, saw some snow drifting in the streetlights. Murphy followed my gaze. "They still out there?"

I closed my eyes, and turned my concentration to the wards I had assembled around Murph's house over the last couple of weeks. Wards are a wizard's first line of defence, like a burglar alarm. They were rings of energy, attached to and stretching out from the threshold of her old family home, granting them a remarkable strength.

A threshold is hard to describe; It's essentially the magic of a home. Every time there's a happy laugh, a tender touch, a reassuring hug, a kind word spoken, the threshold of a home grows stronger.

Even long after a family has departed, the residue of a threshold can remain, blocking out evil and cruelty, and making it difficult for supernatural beings – or even mortal magic, like mine – to cross into the home. If I, or any other wizard, tried to cross a threshold without an invitation, we'd be leaving most of our magic at the door.

It was also a great anchor to tie other magic to. Especially protective magic.

I felt along the wards for pressure, the push of a constant or rapidly repeated presence. A person walking by might be noticeable to a ward, but only for a moment. Someone sitting outside your house for hours on end, waiting for you, would make a real dent. And I felt a dent.

"Yeah," I said, opening my eyes. "Other side of the road, two lots down."

"Wow. Twenty days in a row. The FBI really like you, Harry." She started into the kitchen, and Mouse faithfully trotted beside her. He was hoping there would be scraps, of course.

"I think they hate me. And the only reason they're still watching is because they haven't got enough evidence to come charging in. You have any idea how hard it is to meet clients when you're being tailed by federal agents?"

I grabbed my staff again and followed her around the corner.

"Yes," she said, filling the kettle from the tap, "but they stopped following me a week ago. Apparently, I'm trustworthy."

I shook my head. "And you carry a sword everywhere you go." I turned to Mouse. "It's because she's a blonde, isn't it?"

He sneezed at me.

"I knew it."

Murph diplomatically ignored me. "I'm having Earl Grey. You want some?"

As she was asking, I suddenly became aware of pressure on the side of my brain. I snapped my head around. Something was in the backyard. And it was getting closer, slowly.

"Harry? I asked – what? What is it?"

I gripped my staff tightly, and stepped into the hallway, looking at the back door. "There's someone out back," I said. I moved quickly to the door, and Mouse and Murph followed me. I stopped there, waiting while she ducked into her bedroom. She emerged a moment later with a Glock in her hands and the Sword, _Fidelacchius_, slung over her shoulder.

I lifted a slat of the blind, and peered through it. I glanced side to side, and saw nothing but Murphy's darkened backyard, covered in snow. I dropped the slat.

"Harry?" Murph whispered.

"Just a sec," I said. The pressure was still there, moving gently through my wards. I just couldn't see what was causing it. Well, not with my normal eyes, anyway. I closed them and gathered up my concentration, focussing on a chakra point about in the middle of my forehead. I opened my eyes, and opened my Sight with them.

The Sight is a natural ability of all wizards. With it, they can see things as they really are, patterns of energy and intent, chaos and stability, life and death, all moving around in a colourful cacophony that reveals the truth of a thing. But once Seen, nothing can ever be Unseen… unless you're on good terms with the memory-eating Jade Court, but I'm not right now.

I Saw the wall of the Murphy house, generations old, and strong, radiating golden love and blue joy, and a bit of red sadness. I Saw the silver purity of the snow falling beyond the wall, and the green potential lushness of the hibernating trees, waiting for their chance to spring back to life.

And I saw a deep violet person-shaped being walking towards the house. It was human, no question about that, full of strength and faith and love, but it was overlaid with something cold and cruel and hard. I caught my breath.

I closed all of my eyes, and shook the sensation of the Sight away. I couldn't be completely certain, but I thought I knew who was out there. "I don't believe it," I said.

"What?" Murphy asked.

"Murph, I need you to trust me on this. I'm going to open the door."

"All right, but I'm not putting this away." She indicated her gun.

"I'd expect nothing else."

She nodded.

I opened the door at a reasonable, unhurried speed. Then, just in case the Federal Bureau of Intrusiveness was listening, I said, "Mister? Here, kitty. You out here? No?" I took a step back and dropped my voice. "I don't live here, but come on in. And close the door," I added quietly.

The door appeared to close all by itself. An instant later, a veil parted, and a young woman, just a couple inches shorter than I, shimmered into existence. She wore jeans, heavy boots, a blood red men's shirt and her shoulder-length hair was dyed, purest white on her left side, deepest purple on her right. She had a light jacket in spite of the cold, a pair of rosy cheeks, and a sword over her shoulder.

She looked at Murphy, smiled. Then she turned to me, slowly, licked her lips and smiled more broadly. Her eyes welled up a little. Damned if mine didn't, too.

"Hello, Grasshopper," I said.

"Hi, Harry," Molly said.

I stared at my former apprentice, conflicted. On one hand, she was a wanted criminal, who had violated the Laws of Magic, ended up on probation, and failed her competency tests, resulting in her being branded a dangerous warlock.

On the other hand, I loved the kid, was overwhelmed that she was alive, and knew all that warlock stuff was mostly a bunch of crap, anyway.

The conflict didn't last long. I dropped my staff, grabbed her in a big hug, and squeezed.

She squeezed back, laughing a little.

"Stars and stones, kid." I pushed her to arm's length, but didn't let go. "Where have you been? Have you seen your family yet?"

"No," she said, her smile faltering. "I wanted – I needed, to see you first."

"Why? Molly, they are going to be - " I cut myself off, looking at her face. Something was different.

"Harry?" Murphy asked. "What's wrong?"

"Molly," I said, glancing up and down, "Are you taller?"

She looked down and took a breath. "Harry, there's something I need to tell you." Before I could stop her, she added, "And you're not going to like it."

I really hate that expression. It's almost always true.

She looked me in the eyes, and I saw something there I'd never thought myself prepared for: age. She was older, and I don't mean physically, but her attitude, her bearing. She seemed wider in the shoulder, too. She was older in spirit. She had seen – or done – something major. Something life-altering.

Something that would get her the protection of the Sidhe.

Oh, no.

_Harry_, a voice whispered in my mind, _this makes sense. A horrible, sad form of sense._

Internally, I shouted at the Fallen Angel living in my corpus callosum, _No! She wouldn't have done something that stupid!_

_Think of all Mab has ever done regarding her. And think of how much you still had to teach her! I suggest you ask_. I felt a pair of feminine arms crossing inside my chest. _Just to be sure._

_Fine._

"Molly," I said slowly, "who protected you? Where did you go? I couldn't find you anywhere, and finding things is kind of my specialty."

"That's… that's what I need to explain to you."

Murphy was standing beside us, looking up, her eyes ping-ponging between us.

"Please tell me you didn't do what I think you did."

The kid bit her lip and closed her eyes. Yeah, I know she's in her early twenties, but I say 'kid' because I've known her since before she knew what sex was.

She opened her eyes again, and there was a hard edge in them I'd never seen before. "I didn't have a choice, Harry. The Council was going to hunt me down." A tear rolled down one cheek.

I clenched my jaw so tightly my teeth ground against each other and made a squeaking sound.

"Hey," Murph said to both of us. "What happened? What didn't you have a choice about?"

Molly and I looked at each other, and I sagged a bit. I felt so powerless in that moment, so guilty, I couldn't even speak. My former apprentice turned to Murph. "I'm the new Winter Knight," she said.


	2. Chapter 2

"How… how could this happen? How could I fail you this badly, Molly?"

"Harry, this wasn't your fault."

"You were my responsibility. And I didn't protect you. I didn't teach you - "

"Harry! This was my choice."

"Barely! You were dealing with the Fae."

"Yes, so, technically, I had a choice." She hugged herself, and seemed to shrink. "Even if that choice was between 'become the Winter Knight' and 'be hunted down like a fox.'"

"And now you're Mab's errand girl!"

"Harry, please, calm down."

"I'm trying, kid." The way my voice rose, you might have thought I was lying.

"I was afraid you'd be mad at me."

"I am. A little." I got quiet. "I'm mostly mad at me." I stooped and grabbed my staff, and walked away, heading for the living room.

"Harry, please, wait!" She grabbed my shoulder, and pulled me around.

I spun like a top and hit my arm on the wall. Not my funny bone, but close enough to feel a tingling sensation. "Ow!" I stood there, stunned. Molly gasped and covered her mouth.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She looked completely crestfallen. "I'm stronger than I was! I'm still getting used to that."

"Right. No wonder you haven't been to see your family yet." It came out a little more harshly than I want it to. She closed her eyes.

"Harry!" Murph chastised me.

"No, he's right," Molly said. "After everything I've been through, everything I've done in the last few weeks… I told myself I could handle going home." She shook her head. "But if that was true, I would have just gone straight there. I don't know my limits, yet. Or what I'm really capable of. Or what the Queen might make me do." She looked at the floor. "I might hurt them," she finished quietly.

Murphy and I glanced at each other. She made an impatient face. I sighed silently. "Molly," I said. "I'm sure it's not that bad. I mean, what's happened to you? You know, besides the whole knight thing. Which I still don't understand. Why did Mab give you the mantle?"

She leaned against the wall and slowly slid down to the floor. "There was… an initiation rite," she said in a small voice. "It… it was humiliating. And painful. And scary. I'm sorry, I don't want to talk about it."

Mouse sat down beside the kid. She looked so small, suddenly. She smiled a little, leaned against the oversized mutt and wiped her eyes on his fur.

"I thought," she continued, "after that, I could deal with anything, but… I don't think I can. I definitely can't face my mother right now." She looked up at me. "And as for the mantle… Harry, she always wanted me."

Um. What? My voice went whisper quiet. "Always? But I thought…"

"What? That she wanted you?" She snorted. "She would have taken you, sure. But she's had her eye on me since I came into my magic."

My mouth fell open. "She told you this?"

"Maeve did, after the – the rite. In plain, honest language. No wordplay, no inferences. The whole deal with Arctis Tor and the phages? She said…"

My voice got its strength back. "What? What did she say?"

"She said it was planned. The whole thing was planned to make me your apprentice. Because she had power over you, already. She knew what you would do, and she allowed it. The Denarians' attack that day actually made it easier to sell. That day, she watched you and Mama rescue me, because she knew what it would do to me, you know, psychologically."

My jaw tightened up again. I hate being manipulated. And this was all the worse because I'd been played like a fiddle just so Mab could get to someone else. Not just anyone; a child. And a woman. I get a little sensitive about both. "But how did she - The favours." My thumb and middle finger found my temples. "I still owe that bitch a favour."

Murphy looked at me. "That lets her control you?"

"It gives her a degree of influence. I'm mortal. The Sidhe can never full control mortals. We always have our free will… even if they can occasionally make us think we don't." I crouched down. "I'm sorry, Molly. I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I'm sorry you were forced into this decision." I manoeuvred myself against the wall, and put an arm around her. "And I'm sorry you're scared of yourself, now."

"Not your fault. I just… don't know what they're going to think."

"They're going to be glad you're home."

"Even my mom?"

"Especially your mom."

Molly looked at me, obviously disbelieving. "Really?"

"Molly."

"I'm just… I've always been afraid of disappointing them, you know? And now I've been turned into this… thing. This walking weapon. All because I was scared." She shook her head. "I wanted to be brave, Harry, I really did. But Winter is a scary place."

"I know, kid."

"I wanted to be like you, or Dad… or Mama. But I couldn't."

"Molly, they really will be glad just to have you home."

She smiled at me, relieved, but still unhappy. She'd probably be that way for a while. But she was alive. Getting her out of her deal… well, I'd work on that.

That was the first time I heard the horns.

"What is that?" I asked, looking up. Mouse did, too.

"What's what?" Murphy asked back.

"The horns," Molly said.

"What?" Murph looked to the front of the house. "No one's honking."

"No," I said, getting to my feet. "Not _car_ horns. _Hunting_ horns."

I walked to the front door, Molly and Mouse at my heels. Murphy brought up the rear, looking confused. "What are you talking about?"

I opened the door, and we all spilled out onto the snowy front lawn. The sound of horns, long, deep notes, was louder, and coming from everywhere.

"You guys are worrying me," Murph said, arms wrapped around herself.

"Have you ever heard anything like that before?" Molly asked. She seemed unaffected by the cold.

I turned to her, and got a shiver. Not a cold shiver. "Once. During the Darkhallow."

Her eyes hardened. "The Erlking?"

I'd expected her voice to get small and worried. Instead, at the mention of one of the most powerful Fae in all of Faerie, she looked ready for a duel. Huh. She really was the Winter Knight. I nodded.

She took a deep breath and lifted her left hand. She was reaching out with her arcane senses, the same ones I'd used to read my own wards. The thing is, Molly's much stronger when it comes to subtle and mental magic than I am. After a moment, she lowered her hand. "There are no Fae nearby. Maybe some of the Little Folk, but they're everywhere."

The horns had stopped. I glanced up the street at a dark sedan. I couldn't see them, but I knew that inside, there were two confused and rumpled agents of the FBI. "Let's get back inside," I said.

Molly went first, and Mouse, after a last look around, followed her. "Harry?" Murphy said.

"Yeah?"

"What's going on?"

I glanced up into the dark sky, but saw nothing. "I have no idea."

An hour later, we sat around some pizza, watching the news. Mister, my unusually big-boned cat, sat atop the TV. Molly had begged us to not call her parents. Murphy and I had agreed, on the condition she talk to them herself tomorrow.

The horns that only magic users seemed to hear bothered me, and I had left a message with Andi, Elaine's temporary roommate, to jiggle the wires of the Paranet, our supernatural, world-wide neighbourhood watch. Then the pizza came, and it occupied all my thoughts, like a normal red-blooded American.

The phone rang in the kitchen as Murph was about to take her first bite, and she sighed as she got up to answer it.

"So," Molly asked, "how do you like having a water heater?"

I scratched my chin, looked at the ceiling, and generally used my mulling face. "You know, I have to admit, it's pretty freaking sweet. Though, it did break down last week. Murph was unimpressed."

"Lame."

"Like, seriously."

She giggled like a school girl. Which, in an odd way, she was.

"You glad to be back on Earth? Even if it's only a visit?"

"Oh, God, yes!" She said it with all seriousness. Molly, like all her family, and unlike myself, doesn't vainly take names. "I really missed everyone." A flashy car commercial came on. "And TV."

"So, dare I ask? What brings you home?"

"The Queen just told me to go back to Chicago. She didn't offer a reason, and I don't question her."

The fact that she didn't question authority, even a little, worried me, but I said nothing.

We listened to the TV for a bit. I heard Murph hang up the phone, and start tromping back to the living room, when it rang again. She muttered something. From around the corner, it sounded like she said, "Oh, f-fudge cakes," but I knew that wasn't right.

Molly hid her smile. I did not.

The news came on. The lead local story: Mass Exodus! The anchors very seriously told us about the unusual number of people leaving the city in the last month or so; seasonal workers heading south, college kids headed home, and people taking long vacations. The city was oddly under-populated. On the other hand, they told us much more happily, the morning commute had been great lately.

Finally, Murphy returned to us. She sat down, grabbed her slice of Sicilian, and munched.

"Telemarketer?" I asked.

"Butters."

"Waldo?" Molly asked.

Murph and I both gave her confused looks. "Waldo?" I asked.

"That… that is his name, right?"

"I'm pretty sure only his mother calls him that, kid," Murph said.

"Oh," Molly said.

"What's up with our favourite medical examiner?" I asked.

"He's leaving."

"What?"

"Relax, he didn't get fired, or anything. He's just heading out of town. Said he cashed in all his vacation, and is getting out."

I looked at the TV. "Not the only one. Who was the second call?"

"Rawlins."

"Something weird with SI?" There was usually 'something weird' with Special Investigations. They handled all the odd goings-on in Chicago, and made it appear less strange. At one point, when Murphy had been running that show, I'd been a regular face there. But now, she was out, and so was I. Goddamn politics.

"Animal desecrations. He was wondering if you could take a look into it, his plate's full."

I took a breath, about to tell her such a case would be a waste of my time and powers, when something clicked.

_Lash? What do blowing horns, desecrated animals and weird weather all have in common?_

_Individually, nothing, though taken as a group, they are all portents of the apocalypse_, she answered, her voice just a little worried.

_Great_.

Four hours later, Murphy was in her bed, Molly was in mine, and I was on the couch. I couldn't speak for the girls, but I was wide awake. Mouse was lying beside me, breathing deep and putting out warmth, but almost constantly lifting his head to look out the window, his ears swivelling.

I rolled over, facing the window. The phrase 'Portents of the Apocalypse' danced in my vision.

I rolled over the other way, facing the back of the couch. The question of why Mab had sent Molly home was waiting for me there.

On my back, I kept seeing Molly being inducted into Winter's service, in a ritual, and me unable to do anything about it. A ritual that, if I knew the Sidhe, was one she would never, ever talk about, due to the pervasive, possibly sexual nature of it…

I sat up before my mind could head down that road, turning on a lamp. I put on my jeans, my duster, my boots. I grabbed Mouse's lead, and took him out the front door, quiet as I could. Normally, I would have gone out the back, but for some reason, I wanted a look around the neighbourhood. It was chilly, but I wanted to be awake, alert.

Instead of making use of the facilities, my dog kept looking around, obviously uncomfortable. Then he did something he never did: he whimpered. I ducked down to pet his neck. "Hey, buddy. What's wrong? You never act like this." The motions of his neck seemed to grow more agitated. "Hey, come on, calm down. What's wrong?"

Mouse had proven himself sensitive to the dark side quite a few times, but my wards weren't tingling. I focussed on my arcane senses, stretching them out as far as they could go, but I didn't get even tickle of supernatural force. Normal evil, then?

Okay. So what would a normal dog sense that a normal human wouldn't? I closed my eyes, focussed all my attention on my sense of hearing, and Listened. I heard wind blowing; I heard snow falling off trees and landing on the ground; I heard a snow plow roving among regular traffic a block and a half away. The hum of electricity. Nothing else.

So what else could a dog pick up on that a person wouldn't?

I shook my head, looked through the front window of Murph's house, and saw Mister in a state of equal agitation.

Okay, so what would animals in general sense that a human wouldn't –

Oh, Hell's bells!

I pulled open the door, not bothering to stay quiet. "Ladies, I think we're going to have an - "

The first tremor hit then, and it was big. I fell against the wall of the spare bedroom, bounced off, and rolled down the hall, landing on my back in front of the bathroom. Picture frames dropped from the walls, dishes rattled, and the light I'd left on flickered, fell over, and went out. Mouse hit the floor, not moving. I saw a shadow of Mister dash under the couch.

The shaking continued, and I heard the creaking of wooden frames, then the cracking of glass. In the faint light from the street lamps, I saw the front windows to Murph's house develop lines, then shatter from their frames. The TV fell over, face first, exploding.

The bedroom doors opened at almost the same instant, disgorging twin, silhouetted Knights, wielding swords, just as the shaking subsided. "Harry? Molly?"

"I'm here!" I shouted from the floor.

"You guys okay?" Molly's voice asked.

"Yeah," I said. Murph helped me up, then hit the light switch. "I'm – ah!" I threw an arm up over my eyes.

Molly had been naked. And I mean _naked_ naked. Not just PG-13-type partially topless, not R-type g-strings-only, but full-on, X-type, not-until-you're-married, naked.

And she was hot. Dammit.

There are times I'm glad that I'm a trained and practised observer. There are times I wish I wasn't. This was one of those rare times I was divided on the subject.

Yeah, she was hot – tall, slim, athletic and solid, lean muscle everywhere. Legs, long. Chest, just right. Enormous snowflake-shaped brand, over her left hip.

But, I was seeing someone else, and she was the daughter of a good friend. Dammit.

I looked at Murph, instead, who was wearing boy-boxers and a tank top… and an appreciative look on her face. She was staring past me, at my former apprentice, eyebrows raised under her mess of hair.

"Oh, shoot! Sorry, I got used to sleeping this way." I heard her pad away, and the bedroom door close.

Murphy was shaking her head, still staring after Molly. "Murph?"

"Hmm?" She looked at me looking at her. "Oh. Oh, come on. I'm not switch-hitting, but… I can appreciate hard work. And that girl works _hard_."

I slapped my hands over my ears. "Ahh!"

"Oh, get over it." She slipped _Fidelacchius_ back into its sheath over her shoulder. "You're okay?"

"Yeah." I kneeled down again to reassure Mouse.

"I think the TV's dead. Dig out the radio in the kitchen, try to get the EBS? I'm going to check outside if the neighbours are okay."

"Yeah, sure. Here," I said, doffing my duster and holding it out to her.

"Thanks." She slipped it on, the hem dragging on the floor, then stepped into some boots and out the front door.

Molly re-emerged from the bedroom, jeans and shirt back firmly where they were supposed to be. "Hey, Harry. Sorry about that."

"Are you? Are you really?"

She looked down at my topless form and licked her lips. "Uh, yeah. Wearing clothes to bed is… discouraged, in Arctis Tor."

"Right," I said, suddenly self-conscious. Becoming the Winter Knight had changed her, all right. I grabbed my shirt from where I'd dropped it before bedtime, and headed for the kitchen. "I'm going for the radio. Try to coax Mister out from under the couch, would you?"

Murphy came back a little while later, out of breath but smiling in her eyes; Neighbours helped, check.

According to the emergency broadcast system, the quake had registered at least an 8.1 on the Richter scale, its epicentre somewhere under the waters of southern Lake Michigan. I took note of that, but said nothing.

Information was slow to trickle in. Though there was damage everywhere within 150 miles, Chicago, it seemed, was the city hardest hit. Buildings had collapsed downtown, fissures opened in the streets.

I snapped the radio off. "People are hurt. And the things in Undertown could leak out on to the surface. Especially at night."

Molly, Murphy and I all exchanged a look, then we all wordlessly headed back to our respective rooms to get dressed and battle-ready.

We thought Something Bad had just happened. We were wrong, of course. Something Bad had just _started_ to happen.

We took Murph's car to the end of her street and stopped. There was a three-foot wide fissure running through the intersection. We got out of the car, and a look down told us it was only about four feet deep, and 'V' shaped. Not a danger from Undertown to be had here, at least. "Well," Murphy said, "as heroic charges go..."

"Yeah," I said. "Epic fail." I turned to Molly. "Don't suppose you know a good Way?"

I said the last word with just a hint of emphasis, indicating I was using a proper noun. My former apprentice smiled and pointed. "About half a block down, back of the convenience store. It's how I got here."

Leaving the car, we hopped the chasm and set off at a light jog. The neighbourhood was mostly quiet and dark. Some of the houses had lights on, but they were in the minority. As we passed, we saw groups of people, young, old, black, white and everything in between, helping each other.

I'll admit, for a little while, I was proud to be human.

I started getting short of breath before any of my companions. That sucked. However, I managed to keep up until we got to the tiny shopping plaza. There was a corner store that did not sell Slurpees or knock-offs thereof, a video store, and a dentist. Molly led us behind the Slurpee-less inconvenience store. Once we were off the poorly lit road, I paused to catch my breath, without leaning against the building.

The snow was starting to come down again.

Molly approached the trash bin resting behind the building, took a deep breath, closed her eyes, lifted her right hand, and murmured, "_Aprio_." As she did this, she moved her hand in a straight line downward. Then up to the right, then to the left.

The symbolism was not lost on me.

As she was doing this, a line formed in the air, thin and purple. It widened with her touch, becoming a large oval, hovering against the side of the dumpster.

On the other side of the oval, where there should have just been trash, there were trees covered in thick snow. Molly reached up and drew her sword. "Come on in."

Mouse followed without hesitation. Murphy and I exchanged a glance, then I followed her through the doorway to the Nevernever.

The Ways are paths, routes through the realm of spirit and imagination that provide shortcuts for the travel-weary wizard. Since the Nevernever is shaped by thought, emotion and will, rather than tectonics, one point in the Nevernever linked to another point in the real world, can be only feet away from a point miles off in the real world.

I've found it to be the single best way to avoid customs. $700 limit, my ass.

Opening a doorway to the Nevernever takes concentration, practice, and a certain minimum level of talent. Or, in Molly's case, an open invitation.

The Ways of Winter were open to wizards of the White Council and their companions, but Tom Cruise help those who wander off the paths. We emerged from the dumpster door onto a pathway leading out of an enormous, frozen tree.

The air was cool and twilit, a slight midnight blue reflecting off mounds of icy snow. The trees seemed innocuous enough, but I'd been here often enough to know that appearances aren't worth the space in your memory they take up.

There are times I think an alliance with Summer would have been much more palatable for the Council. Or at least more comfortable for travelling. If only Titania, the Queen of Summer, hadn't turned out to be possessed by evil. And a little nutty.

I pulled my duster a little tighter and started walking, following Molly. I kept an eye out for danger – in the Nevernever, just as in certain real neighbourhoods, it's only smart to do so – but nothing crossed our path. That was probably Molly's doing. As the Winter Knight, she was automatically granted some respect by the denizens of Winter.

After a few minutes of hearing nothing but the crunch of snow and the huff of our breath, Molly suddenly stopped walking, head to one side. Mouse made the same gesture at the same moment, and I followed their gazes. My dog let out a short, low growl.

"Knight," a mewling, cat-like voice said in the darkness.

"Grimalkin," I said. The voice was attached to a hairy, Corgi-shaped creature with an oddly articulated mouth that only half-emerged from shadow atop a snowbank.

"Wizard," he said. "And Knight of the White God," he added, looking at Murphy.

Molly stepped forward and addressed the creature with a degree of formality. "Are you here on the Queen's business, Messenger?"

"I am her Majesty's eyes." Then he blinked, vertically. It was a little creepy. "She wonders why you have returned. Yet, I see you accompany the Wizard Dresden. That is well. Her Majesty commands that you remain with the wizard, at all times."

"All times?" I said. "She's not coming in the bathroom with me."

Molly gave me a sharp look. She clenched her jaw and barely moved her lips as she said, "Harry, please."

I took a breath and closed my stupid mouth.

Molly turned back to the creepy little Mouth of Sauron – er, Mab. "As the Queen commands," she said.

In Molly's voice, I heard a slight tremble, a hesitation between syllables. She was scared. Compared to her reaction when I mentioned the Erkling…

I'd seen that kind of change before; I know a woman named Lara Raith. She's my brother's older sister, and the functioning head of the White Court of Vampires. She's in that position secretly, of course, because she was able to psychically beat down her father into submission in a contest of sexual will.

And yes, it's just as yucky as it sounds.

But before Lara was able to break his mind, he'd held her under his thumb for centuries, as with all her sisters. He did it by raping them, mentally. It left them broken, unable to assert themselves, and constantly afraid of him. I'd heard the sound of the usually confident Lara's voice shaking when in her father's presence.

Molly sounded exactly the same. My hatred for Mab reached an all-time high.

Grimalkin nodded, then turned and vanished back into the shadows.

My apprentice took an unsteady breath. Murphy put a hand on her shoulder. "Molly? Are you - ?"

"We're just a couple minutes away. Come on." Molly started walking again, without looking at us. I watched her, my face set and stony, my insides burning like my old apartment. I caught a glimpse of Murph looking at me, mouth open. She closed it without saying anything when she saw my face.

We hurried after Molly.

As we did, something started to tingle my spider-sense. Why, exactly, was Mab glad that Molly was with me? And why, exactly, was she now permanently assigned to Harry-duty?

No, make that Dresden-duty. The other one just sounds weird.

All I had to go on was Grimalkin's words, which, as was typical, were cryptic. Still, there was something a little off here. Damned if I could figure out what, though.

The Way emerged into an alley, in near-total darkness. Only the nearby blue and red lights of emergency vehicles let us see, and then only in deep swathes of colour painting us and our surroundings in a hellish, distorted riot of confusion.

There was noise; the rush of steam and water underfoot, the howl of winds overhead, and the cracking of ice, snow, and brick all around.

Getting our bearings took a moment, made even longer by the fact that we were not on even ground. Everything had shifted. We stepped out into the chaos, just feet away from yellow tape.

We approached that mystical barrier that only cops and EMS ever seemed to be able to cross. A young officer, male, medium brown skin, short hair, thick jacket, moved to stop us.

Then he saw Murph. "Sorry, folks, but you can't - Sergeant?"

"Hey, Gary."

He shook his head and quickly took us all in. "What are you doing here, Murphy?"

"Trying to help."

"You know I can't let you in here." He sounded like he genuinely regretted it. He glanced over his shoulder. "Trust me, you don't _want_ in here. You should see the roads. I saw one split right down the yellow line. Now, there's got to be a seven or eight foot difference between northbound and southbound."

I looked past the young cop, and saw exactly what he was talking about, two blocks down. Two buildings, at least one of which used to be eight stories high, were now half-crumbled ruins. It was hard to tell how tall the other one had been since its lot had sunk below the surface before collapsing.

If Undertown denizens wanted out, that would be an open door for them to crawl through.

Every building between here and there had sustained some form of damage – from windows blown out and doors off their hinges, to façade loss, to total collapse, and everything in between. It definitely got worse as it went.

"Barnes," a deep voice called to the cop. We all looked over to see Henry Rawlins, Murph's last partner, approaching. The big cop had short, dark but graying hair, skin like coffee and a mind like a steel trap. "Dammit, kid, what is Karrin Murphy doing on _that_ side of the tape?"

Gary Barnes started to stutter. "Uh, I, I was just, I mean - "

"And a dog with a nose like that? Could be real useful." Mouse sneezed his thanks. "Forget it, Gary. I'll take the heat on this one." Rawlins lifted the yellow barrier and waved us through. "Come on in. We need all the help we can get in here."

"What's SI doing down here?" I asked.

"Every detective in town is down here. Uniforms are all over the city, answering alarms and 911 calls. SI, Homicide, and Vice all got called in. Every firefighter in the city, too."

"Uh, quick question: what time is it?"

Rawlins looked at me with an eyebrow raised, and glanced at his watch. "Just about 1:30. Why?"

"My watch stopped," I said. I shook my head. The 15-minute 'shortcut' had taken better than an hour and a half in the real world. I hated it when that happened.

The devastation was indescribable. No, that's not true; It was ridiculous. EMS was stretched thin. Rawlins explained that a small fault line, running right through downtown Chicago, had pulled a Long, Dark Tea-Time of the Soul and just got fundamentally fed up with being where it was. About twenty or so hotels, offices and apartments, had simply collapsed. Twice as many buildings were starting to crumble.

Some small fires were burning, but they were mostly under control. When no one was looking, Molly put out a few with a nifty ice spell I would have had trouble reproducing.

The simple size of the disaster had overwhelmed the ability of emergency services to respond; the damage to the roads was making it hard to move heavy rescue equipment, and word had filtered down after about an hour that the governor had called in the National Guard.

I saw stores I had gone into, crushed, cracked, blown apart and completely missing. I saw a pair of hotels I had actually spent time in, and in one case where I knew some of the staff, with windows and doors and even façades, brickwork and awnings lying in the street. Lettering was missing or hanging by a thread on many signs; The 'Ritz' was now the 'R.' The Amber Inn was now the 'ber I'.

Most of the businesses had been empty, and the unusual exiting of the city that had been going on for a while helped, but the hotels still had some people in them, mostly staff. At one point, Mouse and I got recruited to help scour a hollow area under what had been a 12-storey, 4-star hotel; Mouse found three people, half-buried, but alive. He was probably going to end up on the front page tomorrow.

Twice, I saw Murph's eyes glaze over, followed by her calling for help in a seemingly random location, only to pull someone out of a pile of debris.

I saw Molly hold up a falling wall while a man and his daughter were dragged to safety.

Meanwhile, I just found myself short of breath. Stupid heart. The feeling of sheer powerlessness I had was massive. I was used to being the one who was helping, or leading the charge.

It was then, tired, helpless and frustrated, that I thought I heard something familiar whispering my name. "Dresden…"

I looked around, saw nothing. The sound did not repeat itself.

_Lash?_

_Yes?_

_Did you hear that?_

_I did not. But I can hear your memory of it._

_So, I'm not crazy? Something just whispered my name?_

She hesitated. _You believe something did._

_Great. First horns, and now one of the voices in my head can't hear the other one. Does this make me schizophrenic?_

_Not exactly. I don't believe you have a disorder; you are simply exhausted. The sound was not Elaine's voice, and she is the only person you share a connection of this type with._

That feeling of exhaustion was compounded by watching Molly and Murphy, who as far as I could tell, both now had boundless energy. Stupid Knights. I'd probably heard snow or brickwork falling down and twisted the sound into something familiar. I put it out of my mind.

The whole time we were in the disaster zone, Molly and I kept our senses tuned for 'special' activity, but, oddly, neither of us felt anything. That, more than the devastation itself, completely freaked me out.

I was taking a breather after Mouse's successful rescue, sitting on a luxury car that was now 'U' shaped due to the stonework that had fallen on it, when I finally got a tingle of a supernatural presence. It was familiar. I smiled without turning around. "Hi, Thomas."

I heard him sigh. "Never try to sneak up on a wizard," he muttered. My brother slid into my vision, and, like the bastard vampire he was, he looked great. Even better, because he was toting coffee and a bag of doughnuts. "Refreshments?"

My stomach made a loud, rude noise. We both looked at it. He handed over the bag without further talking. I'm pretty sure I swallowed one doughnut without chewing, then slowly sank into the next one. The coffee was perfect: just warm enough, and lots of sugar.

"Where'd you find a place that was open?"

"Twenty minutes west of here. No damage, power's still on." He joined me on the remains of the BMW. "How you holding up?"

"I'm all right. Tired."

"Figured."

"How'd you know I'd be here?"

"This is your town, Harry. And a disaster just happened. Where else would you be?"

I smiled, weakly, and watched a few firefighters pull an old man out of his 3rd floor apartment across the street. He was bruised, but would probably make it. I'd seen them pull eight others out of the same building who didn't.

"How's Inari?"

"Better. They finally went home two days ago. With stepped-up security, of course."

"Of course."

"Now, since you won't bring it up, am I seeing things? Or is that - "

"Molly," I confirmed.

"It is her."

I explained her circumstances. He stared at me.

"Empty night," he swore softly. He shook his head. "White Council's not hunting for her anymore?"

"Better things to do. And she changed citizenship. Suppose she'd be safe, now. Council couldn't go after her without pissing off Mab."

"Right." He looked at my face. "You should go get some sleep."

I must've looked even worse than I felt. "Can't. Can't leave everybody."

"I'll drive you. I'll let Murphy know."

Before I could tell him where he could stick his ride, he was off. I slumped back onto the car, picking up my coffee.

After three sips, Thomas reappeared, Murphy and Molly in tow. "Okay, new plan," he said. He pulled out his keys.

Murphy took over. "The National Guard's en route. I'm sticking around for a while longer. And Thomas has volunteered to take your place, Harry. Molly's going with you. And be careful, I heard all of the major roads are cracked or buckling."

My brother tossed his keys to Molly.

"Oh, you are kidding me!" I shouted, struggling to my feet.

Murphy put a hand on my shoulder and effortlessly pushed me down again. I couldn't do anything but breathe, hard.

"Come on," Molly said. "I'm taking you home. No arguing."

"Right," I gasped. Where the hell had my strength gone in the last few hours? Was a heart attack really this incapacitating? The last three weeks hadn't felt this way…

Mouse stayed with Murphy and Thomas. As Molly drove me back to Murph's house, we stayed quiet. Thomas had a posh, flashy, Italian car, with a great heater. The radio crapped out on us, but that was to be expected with two wizards in the car. She drove slowly, creeping around stalled cars, massive potholes, enormous fissures, flowing water from ruptured mains, and through snow that was starting to thicken again.

"So," she said. "Murphy told me that you and Elaine have kind of started seeing each other again."

I was a little uncomfortable with this topic, but I said, "Yeah. She's closed up her office for a bit. Been staying in town."

"Wow. That's… that's really great for you, Harry. I'm happy for you."

"You don't really sound enthusiastic."

She licked her lips. "No, it's not that. I'm just distracted. Haven't driven in a while, let alone through a war zone." She tried to laugh, but her voice sounded rough.

"Molly? Do you… not like Elaine?"

"Are you kidding? I barely know her. But she's the love of your life, right?"

I shrugged. "Maybe."

"She's this big, shining beacon of your past."

Okay, now I was lost. "Molly, are you okay?"

She hit the brakes suddenly and threw the car into park. She stared at the steering wheel. "I was in love with you, Harry. For a really long time."

"Molly - "

"Please let me say this. You were the tough, hot guy my dad knew and my mom didn't like. So, I guess it was natural; a crush, or something. But it never went away. Then, that night I became your apprentice… and you knew. You knew how I felt, and you shut it down. And I did, too. For a few years, I kept it quiet. I thought of other guys, and I honestly thought I was over it. But you were always there.

"I thought I just needed to get it out of my system, you know? Find another guy, get laid." She paused for a breath, and I said nothing. "But I wasn't over it. It wasn't just a crush. You're still hot, Harry. And you might just be the best man I know. You always do the right thing, even when it costs you." She closed her eyes, leaned her head back. I thought I saw tears forming.

"My brothers and sisters all think of you as an uncle. I never did." Eyes open again, and yes, there were tears. "When everything went wrong at the Council test, I panicked, and ran away. I think I hoped, somehow, that you would find me. Save me. But you didn't. You couldn't, really."

"How do you know that?"

"Mab wouldn't let you. She told me you were looking for me, but to protect me from the Council, she had to block me from your sight, too. After a couple days, she said I'd soon build up a debt, like Elaine did to Summer, when they protected her. A debt I could never pay off. So, she offered me a way out, sort of."

"She made you the Knight."

She nodded. "I remembered you telling me how much the Sidhe love to screw people over, so I tried to put conditions on the deal. The only condition I could think of was that I never be made to hurt or kill someone I love. She agreed." Molly shuddered. "Then…" Tears started flowing outright. "She made me watch as she suffocated Lloyd Slate." She wiped her nose. "Then, there was the rite… It was - it was - " She took a deep, shuddering breath, steadied herself. "It was the single worst thing that has ever happened to me."

Molly started shuddering, sobbing. I couldn't stop myself; I moved closer and put my arms around her. I pulled her head to my chest and she wrapped her hands around my forearms. It only hurt a little. "It was so humiliating, Harry. And painful. God, her hands… did you know one of her legs is made of ice? It was so cold, so _beyond_ cold, that it burned. It hurt, so much, and on so many levels…

"After that, I was just numb. For weeks. When Maeve branded me, I barely felt it. Weeks in Arctis Tor, training and… doing what I was told.

"Then, one day, out of the blue, the Queen just told me to go home. Back to Chicago. And you know what the first thing I thought was? The first person I thought of? The first thing that I felt? Not my siblings, not Mama or Dad, not Vince, not Rosie, or any of my friends. It was you."

That tore it. I pulled Molly back up into her seat. "I'm going to get you out of this."

She wiped her nose, and shook her head, gave a little smile. "Thanks, Harry, but the job's for life. You can't remove the mantle without killing - "

I took her face in my hands and looked her right in the eye. I didn't try to keep the anger out of my voice, and it might have come out a little Christian-Bale-Batman-ish. "Molly, I promise."

Her eyes got wide. The swelling of hope I saw there almost broke my heart. I had no idea how I was going to pull this off, but I didn't care; In that moment, I just knew I would make it happen. I was _not_ going to let this girl down again.

She whispered, "Thank you, Harry," then got the car going again.

I nodded and rubbed my eyes. I needed sleep. Then I needed to make some calls.


	3. Chapter 3

I was awake less than five hours later, and still felt like I'd wasted time. Lash had once shown me a few ways to disguise my fatigue, but much like her methods for hiding pain, I'd just feel it all the worse later. So, I'd slept. When I woke, there was a tarp fitted over the remains of the front window, and the snow had stopped, but the sun was still hidden behind clouds.

Molly was still snoring lightly on the couch. There was no sign of Murphy, Mouse or Thomas. I padded into the kitchen and the blinking clock on the stove told me the power was still on. I checked the phone and got no tone at all. Well, one out of two ain't bad. I started making coffee. This was going to be a long day.

I stuck some bread in the toaster and was digging through the pantry for peanut butter when I heard, very close to my ear, "Coffee's bad for you, you know."

I didn't quite die, but it was a close thing. I did manage to hit my head on the shelf above me. "Ow! Dammit, Molly, you trying to kill me?" One hand on my chest and one hand on my head, I rolled over on the floor.

"Oh, sorry, Harry." To her credit, she really did sound sorry. And at least she was dressed.

"Molly, I can be quiet when I want to be. Very quiet. But you… you really are the Invisible Woman, now. Inaudible, too."

She smiled and offered me a hand. She pulled me up with no visible effort. "Why don't I take care of breakfast?" she offered.

I gave her the evil eye. "Oh, so you really are trying to kill me."

Her hands shot to her hips, her head tilted to one side, and her mouth became a thin line. I reeled back from her. "Wow! For a second there, you actually were your mother."

She deflated. "I have to call them today, don't I?"

"Nope, phone's are out."

She looked relieved.

"So, we're going in person."

Her relief evaporated. "I really don't know how to feel about this."

"It doesn't matter, kid. As long as you feel something. Means you're still alive."

She met my eyes, and half-smiled again. Then she nodded and headed over to the coffee maker. "So what are we doing today? Heading back downtown?"

"No, the National Guard doesn't need us tripping them up, and Undertown was quiet. I have to make a call."

"I thought you said the phones were out?"

"Not a _phone_ call. A _stone_ call."

Her eyes crinkled like she hadn't heard me correctly. "Say what?"

Once again, I was sitting in a dark room, staring at my teacher. "The Winter Knight?" he asked softly. "Hell's bells, boy, that is… quite the little development."

"You're telling me."

He shook his head, and his voice became even softer, almost whispery. "Wizards don't become the Knights very often, Hoss."

A soft voice draws in my attention. It's hard to argue with, with most people shout in an argument. There's a finality and weight to a soft voice. "Is it a problem?" I asked, suddenly worried.

"You haven't thought of the consequences? You know what she's capable of, Harry. And as young as she is, she'll only get stronger."

"She's not much for combat magic, Sir."

"Considering the power she has access to now, and the influences she's going to be under for the rest of her long life, and the patience of the Sidhe, you really think that matters at the moment?"

I swallowed. Molly's problems with the Council stemmed from her use of neuromancy – mind magic – to alter the thoughts and feelings of a pair of her friends, trying to help them. It had backfired, badly; one of them had recovered, for the most part, but the other was now severely agoraphobic and mildly schizophrenic. "No, I hadn't thought about that."

"So, you understand my concern?"

"I do."

"And you're okay with me passing this all on to the Wardens?"

"Are you kidding? I'm counting on it. It gets her diplomatic immunity, right?"

He chuckled. "I suppose it does."

I nodded. "Good. Now, I need to ask, because I've been having a strange feeling; does the Council have any take on the earthquake?"

"What do you mean, 'strange feeling?"

"Well, more like no feeling at all."

McCoy nodded to himself. "Rashid's been talking." I perked up. The Gatekeeper was the single most enigmatic person I'd ever met, but he was unusually well attuned to the strangest of the strange. "Officially, the Council has detected nothing supernatural about the quake. Off the record, Rashid is taking note of it."

"I find it's always a good bet to take note of him taking note."

"Damn right. Here's the thing, Hoss; he thinks it's big."

"That's… not terribly descriptive."

"No, Harry, I mean _big_. Life-altering big."

I shook my head. "Sir, like I said, I haven't felt a thing." I paused. "In fact, I really haven't felt a thing." I thought back. "For days, now. Maybe weeks. It's like there's a blanket over everything. My wards are working, I can draw in magic, but I can't feel any disturbances. Even after the quake, I should've got a read on Undertown, but there was nothing. Forget bumps, nothing even went 'Ow, my toe!' in the night."

Ebenezar looked down. "I was afraid it might have already gotten like that."

"Like what?"

"Harry, when I said 'big', I meant hurricane-sized. And frankly, you're in the eye of the storm. The calm centre. It might be too _big_ for you to sense anything there, until it gets underway."

My mouth hung open. "But… I didn't even feel it coming." No, that wasn't entirely true. "Wait. A sensitive I know told me she felt something about three weeks ago, but hasn't said anything since."

"If Rashid is right, it's been building for a long time. At least weeks, maybe months. That friend of yours was right."

_I'll be sure to let Elaine know. She loves being right_. "How am I supposed to handle this, Sir? Earth magic isn't my forte, but I've got a feeling it's going to get worse." I hesitated a second before asking, "I don't suppose you've been hearing horns blowing?"

That got his attention. McCoy sat up straight, staring at me. "Hunting horns?"

"Yeah. Just blowing randomly. Molly and I were the only ones who heard it that I know of, but I've got the word out. None of the normals seem to have heard anything."

"I haven't… but I don't like that you have. I'll mention it at the meeting."

"What meeting?"

He drew in a deep breath. "There's going to be a debate, Hoss. An open one, at dawn, here in Scotland. Can you make it?"

I thought of Molly. And my city, in ruins. "My place is here, Sir."

He nodded, like he expected nothing else. "Good man. A few others can't make it, either. I'll rig something up with the stones so you can see and hear what's going on. Dawn for us is about midnight for you."

"I'll call you just before."

"Watch your back, Hoss. And take care of that apprentice of yours."

We broke the connection, and I blinked. Murphy's living room came into existence before me. For that matter, so did Murphy. "Hey," she said from the couch. Her cheeks were still rosy, and her eyes had slight circles.

"Hey. When did you get back?" I unfolded myself from the floor.

"About five minutes ago."

I saw _Fidelacchius_, the only thing lying next to her on the couch. "Where's Thomas?"

His voice came from the kitchen: "Making hot chocolate! It's freezing out!"

"Molly's outside with Mouse," Murph finished.

I nodded. "You didn't see anything overnight, did you? Anything from our side of the tracks?"

Murph thought for a second, then shook her head. "Nothing out of place." She glanced at the Sword. "I'm still getting used to the upgraded radar, but I don't think I felt anything."

"If you'd felt anything, you also would've known what to do about it, I'm sure."

"Probably. I need to talk to Sanya more, get some lessons." Her hand sought out the Sword again, a touchstone. I watched her eyes lose focus.

Thomas came in with a tray, and I lifted a finger to my lips. He instantly froze, going inhumanly still. He didn't look cold. He didn't look tired. He looked like a handsome, cocky, ass.

We stayed quiet as, gradually, she came back to herself. "Maybe we should head down to St. Mary of the Angels," she said softly.

"Any reason?" I asked, though I'd already decided to do whatever she suggested.

She blinked a few times, shook her head. "No. Just a feeling, I guess." She looked at the Sword, shook her head. "Oh. So that's what it's like."

Thomas and I exchanged a look and he started moving again, distributing warm beverages. Molly and Mouse come in through the front door. "Ooh, yummy," she said, and headed straight for the tray.

Mouse saw the distribution of hot chocolate, and gave Thomas a look. My brother very pointedly ignored him. Then Mouse turned his puppy dog eyes on me. "You'll live," I told him.

He huffed at me.

I rolled my eyes. "Good news, Invisible Woman," I said to Molly. "We're heading down to the church."

The poor dear actually looked relieved, bless her heart. "Instead of going home?"

With a glance at my brother, I said, "Molly, Molly, Molly." I put an arm around her shoulders. "There's been a disaster in Chicago. Where do you think we're going to find your family?"

St. Mary of the Angels is a big church. I mean Big. Capital 'B'. It takes up an entire city block, if you include the parking lots, and simply dominates the area. Sure, there are taller buildings, fancier ones, and ones with more glass and sharper angles, but none are as impressive. The big stone walls simply radiate strength.

Which is probably just one more reason why, in times of distress and disaster, people flock to churches.

We got there just after lunchtime, despite a faerie shortcut that dropped us two blocks away. The streets got progressively more strangled as we approached, clogged with cars that had been abandoned. I couldn't see around to the front of the building, but I could guess that it was much the same.

As we neared the rear service door, Thomas gave a wary look at the spire above us. "What's the matter?" I asked. "Heebie-jeebies? Creeps?"

He looked at me, deadly serious. "Cooties."

I nodded wisely. "Serious case, too. Well, stay behind me." I put a hand on Molly's shoulder. "You want to knock?"

She took a moment. I could see her working herself up to it, slowly nodding, the nods getting a little bigger, a little bigger, then finally, "Sure, why not?"

She didn't move. Murphy stepped up to her other side. "Molly, you don't know for sure they're in there. And what are the odds one of them will answer the door? Shouldn't a priest do that?"

She was nodding again. "You're right. You're right." She finally sounded convinced. She still didn't move.

I glanced at Murph, and something unspoken was exchanged. We each put a hand on Molly's back, and pushed.

She took a step, then another, then raised her fist, and pounded on the door, three times. She stepped back. "They might not even be here," I heard her say to herself.

Naturally, her father opened the door.

Michael Carpenter is a big man. Not as tall as me, but broad and covered in lean muscle. He'd always been that way, and even now, with a severed nerve causing a limp, and partial blindness and an inability to wield the Sword he'd carried for years, he was still an impressive man. I'd seen him stare down demons and Fallen Angels and every kind of horror from this world and the next, and never once hesitate.

But seeing Molly stunned him.

It took almost five full seconds for Molly to break the silence with a halting voice. "Uh, hi, Daddy. I, um, I mean, I know I haven't exactly called, but - "

She was cut off when Michael scooped her up in both arms, squeezing for all he was worth. "Molly! Oh, Molly, thank God!"

Michael's eyes were closed tightly, but he was weeping, completely unembarrassed, simply overjoyed.

Michael is, without a doubt, the best man I have ever known, and probably the best father.

I exchanged a glance with Thomas, and we both smiled a little. I felt a tiny hand on my arm and knew Murphy was grinning in spite of herself.

Eventually, Michael put his eldest child down, and looked at her. There were tears on both their faces. His hands never left her shoulders, just in case she vanished, I supposed. Suddenly, he seemed to become aware of the rest of us. "Harry. Karrin." He stiffened, ever so slightly. "Thomas. Please, all of you," he looked at Molly again, "come in."

Grinning like an idiot, Molly went in first as Michael stepped aside. I followed Murph and Thomas. Michael put a hand on my arm as I stepped inside. "Harry, thank you. Thank for finding her."

"Actually, she found me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Look, there's something I need to explain - "

"Molly!"

We both turned our heads. Alicia, one of the Carpenter's other children, had spotted her sister from down the hall. Not quite as wiry as Molly, Alicia was still built like an athlete, and sprinted straight at her sister. Murph and Thomas both hugged the wall to get out of her way. Molly gasped, then dropped to one knee and braced herself, catching Alicia in a tight hug. "Oh, man, it's good to see you, kiddo."

Alicia peeled herself away and twisted her face back down the hall. "Kelly!" she shouted. "Come quick!" She contorted herself around to face forward again. "I can't believe you're home! This is great!"

Michael leaned close to me. "Whatever it is, Harry, I think it can wait a moment."

At the end of the hall, a thin, freckly, redheaded girl came into view, wearing jeans and a baseball jersey, looking worried. "Alicia?"

"It's my sister! She's home!"

Hot on Kelly's heels, a slew of children, all baring a bit of a resemblance to each other, piled around the corner. In seconds, Molly was buried in a sibling avalanche. Everyone was smiling, some were laughing, and questions were flying. "Where have you been?" "Where did you get a sword?" and "What did you do to your hair?" were the loudest ones.

Even Thomas, as uncomfortable as he usually was in churches, had a smirk on his face.

It's a great feeling, knowing that you've been part of bringing joy to people. In spite of the damage to my town, in spite of the worries I had over the immediate future, both magical and not, I could follow Michael's advice.

At least until Charity showed up at the end of the hall. The crowd got awfully quiet awfully fast as everyone caught sight of her. Charity Carpenter was the same height as her daughter, though maybe a touch more slight, and her hair was still its natural blonde. Her jeans were stained with what looked like paint. Her gaze was locked on Molly, who slowly stood, but whether she was overjoyed or furious was anyone's guess.

She stepped slowly down the hall, and the feeling of joy I'd had evaporated. Some cautious hope took its place. That, and powerlessness. This was a moment between Molly and her mother. I couldn't do anything to interfere.

And I heard that damn voice again. Just a whisper, and just my name, but it was creepy. And I _know_ from creepy. I thought it came from over my shoulder, so I glanced back, but only saw the door we'd come in through. _Lash?_

Her voice was hesitant, sympathetic. _I am sorry, Harry. I heard nothing._

I knew the Carpenter women were exchanging words, but I didn't hear them. My mind raced, running over all the things that could possibly get into my head so quickly, quietly, and easily, and came up with a remarkably short list.

I shook my head and turned back. I'd obviously missed something; Molly and Charity were embracing, and Michael limped forward to squeeze them both. Then the whole family was in a pile again, Kelly included.

"Come in," Charity was saying. "We could use a few more hands, please," and suddenly she was leading the whole brood down the hall. "Alicia, Kelly, could you please find Father Fraser?"

The redhead took the other girl's hand, and they both shot off running. Murphy pulled Thomas ahead while I followed the throng, ending up back near Michael again, while Molly stayed close to her mother. "Thank you, again, Harry," he said.

"I told you, she found me."

"Yes, but you brought her here."

I shrugged.

"Is she…" He paused and his jaw stiffened. "Is she still being hunted?"

"Short answer: no. Long answer: I think it's best I explain that to you and Charity at the same time."

He nodded and took a deep breath. "Well, that's some relief, at least."

I was silent as we emerged into the church proper. Remember how I said St. Mary's is big? Big as a city block? Well, imagine if that block was populated only with the homeless.

That was my first impression when I looked around; dozens, hundreds, maybe more than that, people of every size, shape, age and colour, were seated or lying, in pews, on the floors, in the aisles and against the walls.

I was stunned, but I shouldn't have been. History teaches that in times of disaster, people run to churches. These days, at least in the West, folks are probably more likely to run to a hospital, but if the church was closer, and you were scared, what would you do?

Historically, there's debate about whether people rushed to church in a time of trouble because they were looking to beg for God's intervention, or if the church was just the best built structure in the old village, and thus the safest. Either way, it would fill up fast.

Like it had now. I stumbled for a second, stunned with the sheer volume of people, hurt and scared, asleep or hungry. About twenty or so people, not all of them adults, were busy passing out blankets and sandwiches. Three others were applying bandages. And one of those people was a large, powerfully built black man with a Russian accent and a big sword over one shoulder.

Murphy approached Sanya, the big man turning his perpetually grinning face to her. I turned to Michael, found him watching the Knights, too. "You miss it?"

He glanced at me. Then he looked at his wife and a sampler of his children, who were now taking up food to distribute. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But not often. And not for long." He turned back. "Others have taken up the fight, Harry. I did His will as long as I was able."

"Earned your seventh day, huh?"

He grinned. "I'd be lying if I said there were more days ahead than behind. But I intend to live every single one of them as He would have me." He looked again at his family. "Or as _they_ would have me." I watched as the rugrats scattered. He started limping away, towards the diminished pile of food, with every intention of picking up a tray and spreading it around.

I sighed and shrugged out of my duster, then hooked the neck over my staff and leaned it against a wall. I caught up to Michael as he was hoisting a tray, and did so myself. He nodded in thanks.

Thomas had vanished. I didn't blame him. With this many injured and deprived human beings around, he was going to struggle to control his demon side.

So, I passed out food, blankets, pillows, and reassurances, for the better part of an hour. It was, if possible, even more exhausting than the previous night. I found myself stopping every few feet to breathe deeply. I covered by simply talking to whoever was against the wall when I stopped, and handing out a sandwich or a pillow. Everyone's story was the same, plus or minus a few details:

Every ten minutes or so, the front doors would open, and another group of refugees would come in. I paused by the doors once. The devastation on the roads leading to the church was massive. There appeared to be only one clear route, unblocked by cars, debris, or broken roads.

Alicia and Kelly discovered some stuffed animals somewhere, and began dutifully spreading them among the smallest children.

A few people had managed to struggle in with a suitcase or two, but most had nothing. Making them comfortable was all we could do. And I hated it. These people needed out of the city, or access to a hospital. We could get neither for them, since the phones were still out.

The last sandwich had just been taken off my plate when the doors opened again. In walked three National Guardsmen in full uniform, and behind them, a tall woman with golden brown hair, hidden in a hood.

I smiled as Father Fraser stepped forward to greet the new group. "Sweet mother," I heard one of the soldiers say, looking around.

Then I stepped around him. The woman, gangly like me, but somehow able to make it look good, took a step away, out the door into the cool November air, out of earshot of anyone inside. I slowly followed her. I waited for the doors to swing shut before I smiled at her. "Hello, Elaine."

Elaine looked me up and down, a smirk on her soft lips and hands on soft hips. "That a tray in your hand, or you just happy to see me?"

I looked at the plastic disk, then tossed it like a Frisbee out into the parking lot. It vanished under a snow-dusted car. "Both," I said, and got a little closer.

She stepped closer, too, and put her hands around my waist, holding me tight. "Why, Miss Mallory, what are you doing?"

"Staying warm, you doofus. Where's your jacket?"

"If it goes below your butt, it's called a coat. And if it looks cool, it's a duster. Nice hoodie, by the way." I reached up and tugged on said hood.

"Hey, it's insulated."

"So, leading soldiers around? Big high-profile for you."

"They're not going to remember me."

"Say what?" I said, with no playfulness at all.

She rolled her eyes. "Not because of _that_. They've just got other things to worry about."

"Ah, good."

"Got your message, by the way."

"My – oh, right. Sorry, been a busy day."

"It's okay. I heard them, Harry. The horns blowing."

"So it is all magic users?"

"Well, the Alphas didn't hear a thing; I asked Andi when I got in. Of course, before I could call you, there was an earthquake. You might have noticed. I haven't heard from any of the sensitives or lower-level users, but I wouldn't be surprised either way."

"Me neither."

We stopped talking, and she leaned a little closer, gently bumping her nose against mine. Then I kissed her. It wasn't deep, dramatic, or super-passionate, like it would have been in our youth. It was warm, sweet, and gentle. It was perfect.

Then it was over, and I felt better, stronger, more energetic. I smiled. "Well, that was nice."

"Yeah," she said. "But not as nice as getting inside a warm building."

"Just be glad they have a generator," I said, and started to follow her inside.

That was when the aftershock came. Nowhere near as strong as the main quake, it still knocked me against the door. Elaine and I stayed on our feet by virtue of holding the handles. Inside, the chandeliers were swaying, windows cracking, and children crying.

We got the door shut, and Molly was suddenly there. Elaine was usually good about hiding her emotions, but she stiffened, visibly. Molly said, "You okay?"

"Yeah, grasshopper, we're fine."

She gave me a light squeeze on the shoulder, nodded curtly to Elaine, and disappeared into the crowd.

"Is that - ?"

"Yup."

"How - ?"

"Long story."

Ten minutes later, the Guardsmen were spreading the promise of buses and helicopters to evacuate. Strangely, their radios had not worked well so long as they were walking with their guide, but now were just fine. St. Mary's, it seemed, was the single largest refuge they'd found within the disaster zone – which, we found out, Chicago had been designated at about one that morning.

Father Fraser, Charity and Molly went about getting the seriously injured closer to the door. Thomas helped, making look easy, of course.

When he had finally reappeared, he dropped a battery-powered radio in my lap with a wink. Elaine kept me company as I tried to tune the dial. With two wizards sitting next to it, the radio was lucky not to explode, but it was made some time in the late eighties, so it was a little more resilient than the newest models. For almost two straight minutes, I got nothing but bursts of static.

Then Michael limped over to us, sat down, and, miracle of miracles, the EBS started coming in perfectly. Michael is really handy to have around.

The news wasn't much we didn't already know or suspect; the aftershock had ripped through, causing even more damage; flooding in the low-lying areas as sewers backed up and the lake rushed in; and fires continued to burn, spreading now beyond control.

I snapped the power switch off. "Well, that was helpful."

"They can only know what they know, Harry."

"Why are you always so positive Michael?"

Elaine said, "It's called optimism, foolish boy. You should try it sometime." She gave me a peck on the forehead while Michael chuckled.

I saw Thomas, under Charity's watchful eye, gently pick up a old man wrapped in a blanket, and walk him up an aisle, place him down in a pew, and take three steps away, followed by several steadying breaths. His demon was hungry. Charity put a hand on his shoulder, and he stiffened. She whispered something in his ear. He nodded, then made a quick beeline for the front door and vanished through it.

Molly approached her mother, mouthed something I couldn't make out. Then Charity looked at me, nodded, and walked up to us, Molly at her shoulder.

"Molly says we need to talk." She looked over her shoulder and crossed her arms. "About her 'political situation'?"

My former apprentice swallowed and nodded, slowly. I gave her a narrowed eye. "And why am I the one doing the talking?" I asked.

Molly's face was surprised, scared, and pleading all at once. "Well… I _can_ tell them. But you should be here, just in case I miss something. Please?"

I sighed. I just can't say no to a lady in distress. "The White Council is no longer hunting her," I said, and she deflated in relief.

"Really?" Elaine said. "What happened?"

"That's my question," Charity said.

I looked at the floor. "She made a deal."

"A deal? You mean like a plea bargain, with the Council?"

I looked Charity in the eye, because it was the right thing to do. "Not with the Council. With the Sidhe. With the Winter Queen."

Beside me, I noted Elaine went completely stiff and still.

I watched the understanding spread over Charity's face. Slowly, she looked at her daughter. Molly said, "I'm the Winter Knight. The Queen's mortal champion."

There was total silence for a few seconds, then, "Perhaps," Michael said, struggling to his feet, "we could talk about this more in the back room?"

Molly and Charity looked at each other, then both nodded at him. All three Carpenters walked away silently, Molly between her parents. Charity looked fit to burst, and I wisely decided that I didn't want to be part of that.

I turned to Elaine. "You okay?"

She was staring at Molly like a lone gazelle looks at a lion. Elaine shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"What's wrong?"

"Is she really the Winter Knight?"

"Yes. No question."

Molly and her parents vanished down a hall, and Elaine let out a breath. But her eyes stayed on that hall. "Harry, there might be a little problem here."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just, a little, tiny conflict."

"Conflict? You're not still in debt to Summer, are you? I thought that was done and over when Aurora died."

"Almost. Not quite."

"Not quite?"

"I owe Summer one small favour."

I felt my eyes double in size. "The last 'small favour' I did for a Faerie Queen involved Denarians and Michael Carpenter getting shot. So you'll excuse me if I'd like you to be a little more specific."

She sighed. "I must render aid and succour to an agent of Summer, when the debt is invoked."

I blinked. "That's it?"

"Harry, that could be anything from let a gruff sleep on my couch one night to help the Summer Knight carry out an assassination."

I grimaced. "True. Well, this is good."

"Good? How is this good?"

"I was afraid things were getting dull. This makes them a little more interesting."


	4. Chapter 4

The next three hours were eventful. The Guard, never ones to waste daylight, got bulldozers clearing streets. The Coast Guard chipped in, adding a few helicopters to the rescue effort, and by five that evening, buses and choppers were streaming into the wasted sections of Chicago, and streaming back out with injured and hungry passengers. A few buses, following in the wake of the dozers, chugged into the parking lot of St. Mary's, and more Guardsmen began to carry and escort folks out.

I was beginning to feel a little better about the whole deal. However, as darkness began to settle in, I overheard an officer telling a subordinate that there were still nearly a quarter million people to be accounted for.

Molly and her parents emerged from the back room, all looking different: Michael, sober; Charity, resigned; and Molly, inscrutable. None of them approached me, and I returned the favour. All three obviously had emotions to work through, and I knew I would only get in the way of that. When and if they needed to talk to me, they would.

Elaine kept an eye on Molly and maintained a distance.

My strength returned over the course of the afternoon, but my brother did not. I silently hoped he had found a place to catch a nibble – not a meal. If Thomas didn't keep his emotional vampiric side sated, it would eventually take control of him, and he'd be nothing more than an unstoppable, psychic rapist. I'd seen it happen, and never wanted to see it again.

I also noticed that Sanya and Murphy had disappeared. I kicked myself as I tried to figure out the last time I'd seen them, and realised it had been before we'd handed out lunch. Stupid sneaky knights.

So, when they came back in just before dusk, leading a gaggle of stunned-looking people like sheep, I was relieved. "What happened?" I asked Murph, watching as a couple of uniformed medics started checking the new arrivals over.

She didn't have her Sword out, and her face and jacket were covered in grime, but she was smiling faintly. "Tenement. Six blocks from here. Roof collapsed. I was talking to Sanya, and we both agreed _something_ had happened nearby. So, we went looking. Would have been back a couple hours ago, if not for that aftershock. Opened a hole, pulled the first two floors right into the earth."

"Undertown?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Not a peep from anything supernatural. Which should be a relief, but under the circumstances…"

"Freaks you out more than anything else?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm just glad you're okay." I put a hand on her shoulder. "Tell me next time you're going to vanish like that."

She knocked my hand away. "Oh, please don't tell me you were worried. I'm a big girl, Dresden."

I looked down at her five-foot-nothingness. "Not really."

Her hand went to the hilt of _Fidelacchius_, but her eyes were what I was suddenly afraid of. I threw up my hands and backed away, impish smile on my face.

I literally bumped into Charity. I turned around, and she was standing there, watching the crowd. I followed her gaze, out to Molly, who was talking with a stunned older man. Then her eyes shifted, and she was looking at Alicia and Kelly, who were absolutely inseparable, as they helped a medic set a woman's broken leg. "Uh, Charity. You okay?"

She took a breath, then another. I thought she wasn't going to answer, then, "I don't know what to do."

"I'm sorry?"

"I thought I knew what my life was going to be like. Then my daughters turned out just like me."

"Just like you?"

"Rebellious, strong-minded. I deserve it, I suppose, for the Hell I put my parents through."

"Your children are who they are. And they are good people. Just like their mother."

"Am I a good person? Look what's happened to them. At what they're lives have turned into."

"'Them'? I know for a fact that you're not talking about Alicia."

"What do you - ?"

"Because she is one of nature's greatest and rarest gifts: the well-adjusted teenage girl."

Charity was silent a moment. "I was uncomfortable with it, at first. I didn't know what to say or do."

We watched the woman with the broken leg cry out. We watched Kelly reel back, and we watched Alicia lean forward, gently take the woman's face in her hands, and start talking soothingly to her. We watched the woman fall into sedative-induced rest. When the medic thanked them and moved on, we watched her hug a scared and tired Kelly close, then kiss her forehead.

"Well, you must have figured it out, because she seems fine, now."

"I suppose I must have. It's just something I never expected. Michael just shrugs it off, and loves her, no matter what. I love her, of course. This is just something I'm not sure how to deal with, long-term."

"Deal with? What's there to deal with? Your daughter has fallen in love."

"Yes, but what advice can I give her? I only know how to deal with boys."

"Well, you'll both need to keep Michael involved, then."

She smiled. It was small, and sad. "I guess so. Though, I suppose this is a normal, human concern." Her eyes shifted to me again. "Molly, on the other hand…"

My voice hardened. "I'll tell you what I told her. I will get her out of it."

"She said you promised her that." Her hand found my arm, and her grip was steel. I avoided looking directly into her eyes. "Now, I want you to promise _me_. Swear it to me, on your life, and on your magic, wizard."

A promise made between normal mortals is a powerful thing; a binding of your word to your actions. Breaking a promise can damage or destroy your reputation. A wizard's promise, sworn on his power, can damage not just the reputation, but the power itself. Enough broken promises can lead to a broken wizard. As such, it is not something to be taken lightly.

But I didn't hesitate. "I swear it, Charity. On my power, on my life, if there is a way to get Molly out of this, I will get her out." I felt a little shiver up my back.

She looked only a little less tense, and her grip relaxed ever to slightly. "I pray you do, Harry." Coming from her, that was a promise, not a statement of hope.

When we turned to face the crowd again, Molly was standing there, not three feet from us. She gave us a wan smile; she'd heard everything. Then her eyes were on her mother. "I just spoke to a soldier. Power's down and they're having engine trouble and problems getting mobile lights to work, so they're only sending in two more buses before sundown. The injured are all cleared out." She nodded to herself. "I need you, all of you, to be on one of those buses."

Charity's arms crossed. "I beg your pardon, young lady?"

"I've thought this through, Mama. If I have to, I will pick you up and put you on the bus myself. But I can't have you here. None of you." Charity opened her mouth to protest, but Molly lifted her hands, pleading. "Please, hear me out. Something bad is coming, and I have a part to play. I don't know what, exactly, but I know it's what God has intended for me. And I won't be able to do it if I'm worried sick about my family."

Charity opened her mouth again, reconsidered, tried again, and closed it one more time. She stared at her daughter, who really was a woman now, and shrank in on herself. "I can't just leave you here," she said quietly. "This city is a disaster zone. You could die."

Molly took her mother by the shoulders, and I felt both privileged and voyeuristic to watch the moment; a child reaching maturity. In a firm but surprisingly gentle voice, she said, "Mama, don't think you were the only one who was scared for Dad all those years. Every time he took up that Sword, every time he charged off into the night, I was just as scared as you that I'd never see him again. But I knew, on some level, _I knew_, that if he died, it would be while doing his duty, and he would have called it a good death."

"There's no such thing as good death, Molly," Charity said, and she was starting to weep.

"Mama, if I die, it will be at a time and place of my own choosing." Then she took a breath and added something that chilled me to the bone: "While doing the right thing."

I turned to walk away, and didn't hear anything else they said to each other. Several years back, as a horrible, cruel joke, a Red Court vampire, the ones who feed on blood, had bought me a present: a gravestone, and accompanying plot. The gravestone was quite nice marble, actually, and was inscribed with a disturbing epitaph: _Here Lies Harry Dresden. He Died Doing the Right Thing._

I don't know how she did it, but Molly talked her whole family into boarding the buses. Michael was even more reluctant than Charity, but their daughter had, to be frank, grown a pair. The Guardsmen didn't seem to mind; the new priority evacuees had become children and their parents, and the Carpenters had at least half a dozen minors in their brood.

Just before he limped onto the bus, Michael turned to me, a silent question on his face. _Will you look out for her?_ I glanced at Molly, who was still looking at her father, and nodded solemnly. _You bet your ass_.

He sighed, embraced her one more time, then a Guardsman gently helped him limp up the stairs. The bus was moving through the twilight before he was seated. The driver probably had the creeps. Only one of his headlights was working, and his engine was making odd, clunky sounds.

It was all the magic in the air. It was heavy. But I still couldn't really _feel_ it. There was a slightly increased pressure on my skin, an ethereal force that should have been crushing me, if it was as big as McCoy had told me. But there was only that slight tightness, like someone gearing up to sneeze, hard. Someone, or more likely, some_thing_, was holding a damp cloth over my arcane senses.

Murphy and Sanya stood beside me. I had reclaimed my staff and duster, as the temperature continued to drop. "The Guardsmen, they wish to set a watch," Sanya said. "I have volunteered for a shift."

I looked at my watch. It was not quite 7 o'clock. "I'll take a 4-hour block," I said, thinking of the Council meeting. "I can do seven-thirty to eleven-thirty."

The big Russian nodded. "_Da_, I will let Lieutenant know." He clapped me on the shoulder, which didn't quite knock me over, and walked off.

My eyes again found Molly, who was watching the bus carrying her family disappear into the war zone that was Chicago. "You okay?" Murph asked.

"Lot on my mind. There's a crazy amount of bad juju in the air, and I can't do anything about it. Can't even a get a taste of it."

"You too, huh? Sanya and I were talking."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And we're in agreement; whatever it is, it's coming in the next day or so. Maybe even tonight."

I nodded, took a deep breath. "I have that conference call tonight. Might be the only chance to get the Council involved."

"I hope it works. Oh, that reminds me: cell phones started working again about an hour or so ago. Talked to Rawlins. He said not to worry about that animal desecration case."

I rolled my eyes involuntarily. "He's all heart."

Sanya came back and told me my watch was 8-12, take it or leave it. I took it, then led Molly and Murphy inside to warm up and wait for my shift to begin.

I got the loading door, around back. The area was largely snow-free. I can't say I enjoyed it, but I do understand why a watch had to be set – Just In Case. It's a good, catch-all reason for things. The Guardsmen were worried about human looters; I was starting to get an itch in my brain about non-human threats; and everyone was scared of what else Mother Nature might throw at us.

Elaine brought me hot chocolate at 8:30. The rectory was out of coffee. It was in a paper cup, so it didn't stay hot for very long, but it was nice for a while. She'd also forced me to put on a sweater under my duster, which she dug out of the lost-and-found. She even dug out a pair of worn leather gloves that fit me.

"I know you don't really need any of this, but I worry."

I smiled. "I love that you take care of me."

She shook her head. "Someone has to." She gave me a kiss, and headed back inside.

On instinct, I turned around, and Lash was there, as I guessed she would be. She was a blonde this evening, wearing her usual robes and had her hands crossed politely in front of her. Her face was unreadable. "You've been quiet all day." I started pacing, and sipping my oh-so-delicious, yet perilously low-caffeine, beverage.

She looked up at the church. "It seemed… improper for me to speak much inside."

"Don't be silly. Far as I'm concerned, you're halfway down Redemption Road."

She glanced away, smirking and blushing, just a little. It was very human, and very endearing. "I spent several millennia tempting, corrupting, killing and destroying human lives and souls. I think I have a great deal longer to go. But, thank you, Harry."

"Something on your mind, or you just here to keep me company?" I glanced out in to the eerily quiet and dark night. "I'm glad, either way."

"Actually, I had a suggestion for you."

"About what?"

"The… stillness, that has settled over your senses."

I nodded. Stillness. It fit. "I like that. Should have thought of that myself, really. What's your thought?"

"A simple detection spell, laced with Soulfire."

I rocked back on my heels. Soulfire was a gift I'd picked up from an archangel. It was a powerful and versatile force, increasing the strength and substance of any spell I stitched it into. Unfortunately, it used my soul as fuel.

"Why, exactly?" I sipped my rapidly cooling chocolate.

"Soulfire is a power of creation. A raw and essential force, it is more basic and more powerful than any complicated magic, human or immortal."

"You're saying it might cut through this stillness?"

"I believe it has the potential to do so."

I considered. So far as I knew, I was the only wizard around with access to Soulfire. If it could cut through this whatever-the-hell-it-was, I might be the only one who could do it. And it would be nice to finally get a _feel_ for the supernatural nastiness in the air, that I could tell was there but couldn't quite define.

Anything I could say to the Council tonight would be helpful in convincing them Chicago needed back up. And after what Murphy had said about the impending doom…

I looked around again, to make sure no vanillas were in line of sight. Non-magical people always say they want to see magic, but they always get a little freaked out when it actually happens. I drained the dregs of my cold chocolate, then leaned my staff against the back door. "What the hell."

Pulling a piece of chalk out of one of my duster's cavernous pockets, I cleared what little snow there was by the door with my foot. Bending down, I drew a good sized circle around myself on the blacktop, investing a little of my concentration and willpower in it as I completed it, accompanied by a mental image of a barrier snapping into place.

I pulled my coat tight, then sat down, legs crossed, and took a few deep breaths, trying to clear my head. "You said a detection spell. What should I be detecting?"

She knelt down and looked me in the eye. "Magic."

"Magic? What, all of it?"

"In general. It is, after all, what you seek."

"Uh. I've never done anything so… broad before."

"It would have to be a broad spell, to counter such a pervasive force weighing down upon you. Magic is what you cannot find." She put an illusory hand on my arm, and I felt the weight of it. "You must seek it out, and you must use the strength you have been given to do so. A spell driven by Soulfire is capable of more than any spell on its own; You know this."

I did know it, though I'd always known it in an abstract way. I'd only ever really used Soulfire as a strength boost; as an old friend had once said, rebar in my concrete. Any usual spell with so broad a target would likely fizzle, just burn itself out trying to focus. But with added angelic strength…

"Okay. I'll give it a go. Nothing to lose." I rubbed my hands together, took a few crisp breaths, closed my eyes, and started to concentrate. I thought of everything magic was to me; a tool, a muscle, a gift, a curse, a way of life, a friend. Then I thought of all it allowed me to do, all it kept me from, and all I had seen because of it, good and bad.

I'll spare you the details, but let me be clear: it was not a short list.

When the concept of magic itself was a solid object in my mind, I formed the spell I would use, a spell I had used hundreds of time over the years, finding lost wedding rings and car keys. Then, mentally, I reached back to the corner of my mind where I kept two boxes; one labelled Hellfire, and the other labelled Soulfire. One was black-red, the other was blue-white, and I touched the nicer-looking one.

Then I reached out with my right hand, and broke the circle, at the same time releasing the energy I had shaped in my mind and whispering a word of nonsense.

The effect was instantaneous and explosive. At least, from behind my eyes. I hadn't realised how much I had been missing the last few weeks, it had been taken away so gradually. With sudden, vicious clarity, I could feel the flow of energy over my skin, the tingle of life in the air around me, the raw power of _existence_ itself thudding in my head.

My senses had been denied the touch of magic for weeks, and the rush of its return drove the air from my lungs like a sucker punch. I collapsed onto my back, my legs still twisted into a odd pretzel shape.

I gasped, and the cold air Niagra-ed down my throat. My neck found frozen asphalt, and added to the discomfort in its own special way.

I cracked one elbow on the ground during my convulsion, tweaking my funnybone.

And I didn't care about any of that. I could _feel_ again. I could _taste_ again. The rush to my senses was almost painfully orgasmic, and after a moment, I felt a couple of tears on my cheeks; I was weeping, in a minor ecstasy.

I just lay there, breathing, letting the simple sensation of magic wash over me. Like a hug from a friend you haven't seen in years, it was so comforting.

And then, like a shot, I felt the opposite. To deny me this much of my perception… someone was trying to blind and deafen the magical community of Chicago. But who would want to do that? And how much power would have to have access to? Blocking this much perception was just unnatural…

I felt the cold prickling sensation all along my back, and it had nothing to do with the cold ground.

My magical radar was working again. I sat up, untangled my legs, and stood. Near. It was near. My eyes searched the darkness, lit only by the tiny light directly over the door I was ostensibly guarding. Without turned, I extended my right hand, whispered, "_Ventas servitas_," and felt my staff leap into my palm.

With my best weapon in hand, I felt a touch more secure, and let my eyes relax, letting them glide over the shadows. _Lash, notice anything different?_

_Yes. At the corner to your right._

And there, at the edge of the parking lot, where the street lights were completely out, standing in front of the abandoned wreck of a t-bone crash, was a lone figure. It was just one more shadow among many, but Lash's eyes and memory cannot be fooled.

I considered for a moment, glancing around to be sure there weren't any more dark figures skulking nearby. The figure did not move. I weighed my options, took a deep, invigorating breath, and started forward, feeling better than I had in weeks.

I walked with little purpose, deliberately not looking at the figure, stopping several times to inspect cars and drifts of snow, and twice, to look at the stars. They really were beautiful tonight. I got almost to the edge of the church's property, then stopped again and rubbed my hands. Only then did I look at the figure.

She hadn't moved an inch. But then, Black Court vampires don't move unless they have to. Her clothing was simple, if eclectic; slacks, an old blouse and dark vintage jacket, modern hiking boots, and a Shakespearean-style cap she seemed to favour. I met her eyes – what there was of them – and inclined my head, slightly. "Mavra."

Some of the vampire's rotten flesh flaked off her face as she gave me a grotesque parody of a smile. "Wizard." Her voice was dry and somehow dirty. The Black Court of vampires are the very picture of the old-school, walking-corpse image that Stoker painted, mostly because they are walking corpses. They rot, they flake, they creak.

But they are also vulnerable to the stereotypical weaknesses, too. Black Court vampires, just like the Red Court, don't much care for sunlight, what with how it kills them so much. They also don't like garlic, holy water, most symbols of faith, or running water… nor hallowed ground. So, I knew I was safe so long as I remained on the consecrated land of St. Mary's.

I kept my expression neutral, but didn't keep the disgust out of my voice. "It's been years."

She regarded me, still without moving. "I recall."

"Last time we met, I made it clear I didn't want you in my city."

"You did. And I respected that, though you dared threaten me."

"I was just honest. You know what power I have access to."

There was a slight blur of motion, and she was standing less than a foot from me. "And you know what I am capable of."

It took a lot of effort to not flinch, but I managed to do nothing but blink. "Careful. You know you don't want to get us mortals scared. Think of everything that happened to the rest of your Court." Her head turned just a few degrees. "You remember. After Stoker published his how-to kill you manual."

Supernatural creatures are impressive, yes, but they're also rare. Humans have survived the millennia for one pretty good reason: there are a hell of a lot of us. And when we're threatened, we have a habit of throwing ourselves at the problem until we overwhelm it.

A dry rasp escaped her throat. It repeated. She was laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"Mortals," she said, and there was little but disdain in it. "The Court had become bloated with fools and the insane. Who do you think gave the author his information?"

Star and stones. Mavra had helped wipe out most of her own Court.

"I can smell the fear on you, wizard. And I will tell you, I am not in your city."

Now my face darkened. "Could have fooled me."

"That is because you are a fool. Chicago is no longer a place for mortals. That has been seen to." Something in her phrasing caught my attention. Was she taking credit for the earthquake? "This city will be my domain."

"Domain? First of all, over my dead body. Second, even you couldn't take a whole city on your… own." Even as I finished speaking, my voice trailed off, because I knew what was coming. It was a cliché, after all.

She smiled again, and even the pale, slightly mossy skin around her rheumy eyes crinkled. Then I blinked, and she was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long, life got busy. New job, birthday, and got married in the last two months. Plus, I'm not very good with politics. Anyway, thanks for all the reviews so far. The pace of the story will be picking up in the next few chapters.**

Not long after Mavra left me standing, I started reaching out, tasting the air with my arcane senses. At first, I didn't notice anything; I was still just relieved and excited to have magic on my skin again. But after a few minutes, I realised the milk was sour. There were about half a dozen odd taints in the air – individually, nothing I would have noticed. As a group, however, they were impossible to miss.

The hours dragged on quietly, and I touched Hellfire, pumping a little through my hands to keep warm. I kept checking my watch, knowing I had to get inside and call McCoy by midnight. My mind raced, but I could only come to one conclusion; the taints I was picking up were Mavra's partners. She'd brought magic-users, wizard level at least, with her. The Black Council.

A soldier relieved me at 12:02, still bleary-eyes himself, and I hurried my equal-parts tired and freaked out body into the church. The encounter with the bitch who had burned my left hand to a crisp had shaken me a bit, and after the adrenaline had worked its way through my system, I got a slight case of the shakes. I rarely have that problem during a scary moment; it's always afterward that I react.

Some of what she said rolled around in my head; _Chicago is no longer a place for mortals. That has been seen to. Who do you think gave the author his information? You know what I am capable of._

And I did. She was strong, fast, deadly, smart, and thought even less of human life than the average dictator. And, apparently, had manipulated the White Court of vampires - the accepted masters of manipulation - into publishing Stoker's Dracula.

The remaining refugees and soldiers were bunking down in the nave. Subconsciously, many of them probably felt safer there, lying in a pew in sight of the altar. After my little encounter, I couldn't say I blamed them.

Sanya was in the main room, just in from his own shift at the front door to the church. "Harry? Are you tired? I should be, but I am not. I thought a game of chess or cards might help - ?"

I took his arm with one hand and started pulling him back towards the little safe room, with my other hand digging a small bag of sand out of my pocket. "No time, sorry. You mind just keeping an eye out?"

"Eye out for what?"

I pulled him in to the closet-like area, closed the door, and started pouring the circle. "Anyone who wants to disturb me." I looked him almost in the eye. "Maybe a Black Court vampire?" Ignoring his suddenly slack jaw, I willed the circle closed, and reached into my pocket, clutching the calling stone. I murmured the incantation that began the connection, and almost instantly, my vision darkened. When the proverbial lights came back up, the sound came with it.

McCoy had certainly rigged something, as promised. I could see the White Council Meeting Chamber, which is essentially a huge, hollowed out cavern under Edinburgh, Scotland. It's shaped like an amphitheatre, with a raised, semi-circular stage area against one wall, surrounded by dozens of rows of stone benches radiating away from it.

I and a few other wizards I didn't recognize were standing to one side of the stage. They were all dressed in their proper black robes, with various coloured accents indicating their specialties and achievements. Like me, they were just standing there in a rough semi-circle, around a fist-sized, pock-mocked rock, which seemed to be glowing. Also like me, they were semi-transparent. Freaky.

Meanwhile, six other wizards, the current Senior Council now that Gregori Cristos had been exposed as a traitor, stood centre-stage. One of them glanced in my direction, and gave me a quick nod, his face stern: Ebenezar.

At the front of the stage, currently orating in Latin, the official language of the Council, was a tall, white-haired man. Alfred Langtry was the Merlin, the head of the Council and pretty much the single most powerful wizard alive. He also did not much care for yours truly. He pointedly did not look at me.

"Filling the vacancy is of the utmost importance," he was saying in a powerful, rolling tenor. "With the removal of Wizard Cristos," he continued, to a low grumble in the gathered group, "the Senior Council is depleted, and executive representation of all wizards is reduced." This last was met with another grumble, albeit a more approving one.

"Point of order," a weathered older wizard from the far side of the Merlin said. Though his voice was lower than Langtry's, everyone looked to him; Joseph Listens-to-Wind was highly respected, as a leader, as a healer, and, speaking from experience, as a warrior. Hardly a wizard alive didn't know him. "This meeting was convened on an emergency basis to debate whether the Council should take action during the current crisis in America. I move we continue on to that vote."

"Wizard Listens-to-Wind," the Merlin answered, and there was hardly any malice in it, "your objection is noted, but the matter of the Senior Council's composition must be answered first."

Ancient Mai, who was pretty much the Merlin's closest ally on the Council, stepped forward. She was diminutive, possibly even smaller than Murphy. But like all the Senior Council members, her size was not related to her influence or the respect she commanded. Or the raw power she had access to. "Point of order, Merlin," she said. "From what we have learned of the activities in the Chicago area, minutes may be of great importance. I move that we forego the selection process – for now – and invest you with the absentee vote."

The Gatekeeper, the only person in the room who was actually taller than I was, raised his head and in a slightly cracked, dry voice, said, "Seconded." Rashid almost never spoke at meetings, but when he did, everyone paid attention. And this sort of direct, un-prompted action was almost unheard of from him. Which meant he thought this was very important. Interesting.

I stood silently. Oh, don't get me wrong – my mouth opened and closed several times while I debated saying something. I wanted the Council to get to a discussion about Chicago, especially now that I had more information to share. But Gregori Cristos had been a political appointment; he had been seen as a champion of non-western nations.

Currently, McCoy, Listens-to-Wind and Martha Liberty, the formidable black woman standing next to McCoy, were all from the States, and the Merlin himself was from England. Ancient Mai was from China, and the Gatekeeper was Indian.

I didn't like the game that the Merlin had set up here, collecting a little more power for himself, but by having the backing of the two members who were from the East, he was ensuring – at least temporarily – the stability of the Council. Cristos, from Greece, had been a key figure in the balance between New World and Old, and unless he was replaced with a similar champion of the unrepresented, the Council would be divided.

My town couldn't afford that. So, I was quiet. A rumble went through the crowd of wizards, but it didn't last, tapering off into a large number of nods.

"Very well," the Merlin said, and I thought he put the perfect amount of humility into his voice to really sell it. "I will accept this burden. For now." He turned to the other side of the stage.

I saw Anastasia Luccio, Captain of the Wardens, standing there, her small form covered in the grey cloak of the Wardens. To her right side, as ever, was a taller Englishman named Chandler, cloak over his impeccable suit, and under his bowler. Due to his preference in headwear, I had taken to calling him Steed, and he had weathered this with perfectly good, British humour.

"Captain," the Merlin said. "Are you prepared to speak on the matter at hand?"

Luccio stepped forward. "Honoured Merlin, I am. Though, there is one more qualified than I."

"Indeed?"

Ana briefly met my eyes, then said, "Warden Dresden has arrived from Chicago."

The Merlin turned his sceptical eye to me. "Ah, _Wizard_ Dresden," he said, and I could barely hear the disdain. "I did not see you as the meeting began."

I opened my mouth to tell him where he could shove his meeting, but I caught a warning look from McCoy and closed it again, even managing a good-natured smile. It did not reach my eyes.

He turned back to the captain. "As I recall, Dresden was relieved of his Warden's duties some weeks ago."

"Yes, Honoured Merlin. By Warden Steiger, my predecessor." She tactfully did not mention that he had also been her replacement, for a little while, until he was killed. "I have re-instated him."

This was news to me, but I took it in stride, and kept the grin on my face when Langtry looked back at me with eyes could cut steel. "I was not aware of this… re-instatement."

"I apologise, Merlin. The paperwork was held up." She looked down at Jones, the nervous little clerk who had replaced Wizard Peabody - or as I liked to call him, _That Traitorous Bastard_. He seemed to shrink in on himself as he rapidly started sorting through papers.

I had no idea why the Merlin would need to know about every Warden's duties, though I suspected he'd made an exception in my case.

"Very well," the Merlin said, fully turning toward me. "Your report, _Warden_ Dresden."

About 300 sets of eyes turned to look at me. Great. _Lash? Ready?_

_Of course, Harry. Latin is like a second language to me._

_Was that a joke?_

_Did you find it humorous?_

_Yeah, a little._

_Then yes, it was a joke_.

I took a deep breath, stifled a smile, and started to speak.

My Latin is a well-known atrocity among the White Council membership. Oh, I can understand it just fine; speaking it, on the other hand, was another matter.

Of course, I'd never had the chance to speak to the Council while I had my own personal Babelfish. I raised my voice. "First, Honoured Merlin, I apologise for my tardiness."

Just saying that much without tripping over my tongue earned me a lifted eyebrow from Langtry. "The destruction and black magic currently reigning over Chicago is great. My duties - to protect the innocent, and to detect the foul stain of darkness - prevented me from arriving any earlier." I turned the gathered throng, and many of them looked pleasantly surprised. "And I ask the forgiveness of the gathered Council.

"Now, to business. The city of Chicago was recently devastated by a powerful Earthquake. This much you know. What news I bring tonight, is that a member of the Black Court of vampires has taken credit for the destruction."

A murmur ran through the crowd. I've never had a problem speaking in front of crowds. I get nervous, of course, like most people. But when I get nervous, I talk. It's a defence mechanism.

A voice called out, "The Black Court has not the power!"

I answered, "The vampire known as Mavra, who many here know, has developed her access to magic over centuries. She has power, but yes, I agree: she did not do this alone. She all but said so to me not a few hours ago."

McCoy stepped forward from behind me. "You faced down Mavra? Alone?" he asked. He sounded just a little impressed.

"Not exactly. I stood on holy ground while she did not."

The Merlin eyed me, and was silent. Ancient Mai spoke instead: "It simply revealed itself to you?"

"Yes."

"Why would the creature do such a thing?" The disgust in her voice was obvious.

"She wished to deliver a message. I quote: Chicago is no longer a place for mortals."

Another murmur ran through the crowd, and I saw a few angry faces. But I also saw several shaking heads. I didn't have them all, yet.

"Such threats have been made before, Warden," the Merlin said. "It is insulting, but hardly worthy of alarm."

My head snapped around in surprise. "Hardly worthy? She's threatening the entire population of a metropolitan city!"

A quiet voice from the audience asked, "What of the times when whole villages in Africa or South America have been threatened, and we gave no response? Do you say an American city is more important than them?"

"What? No, of course not," I said. I couldn't see who had spoke, so I addressed the entire crowd. "A life is a life. It's worth saving. I'm talking tens of thousands of lives."

"Are you unable to deal with the threat using conventional means, Warden?" Langtry asked. I looked at him again, and the smarmy son of a bitch was looking at me with pity. He was also calling in to question my abilities as a Warden. "I was given to understand that you had already dealt with the creature Mavra once before."

_Fine, if that's the way you want to play it_, I thought.

I pulled off my gloves and held up my slightly twisted, scarred left hand. "I did. And nearly lost my hand in the process, not to mention the lives of my companions."

"Nearly, yes," Ancient Mai said. "Yet you survived, and the creature was driven off. Though, not killed." I felt my jaw tighten. Even now, they couldn't resist taking a shot at me. Jerks. "One cannot help but feel, had you been more thorough the first time, this crisis would have been avoided."

"For starters, I was not yet a Warden when I faced Mavra the first time."

"And yet," the Merlin picked up, "this time you feel the need to request assistance from the White Council – which you did not, last time."

_Careful, Harry_, Lash whispered, and I saw McCoy saying the same thing with his face. I took a breath. Of course. The damn politician had just handed me a noose, and was waiting for me to use it. With a quiet voice, I said, "My feelings towards the Council at that time were well known."

"Yes," he said. "You did not trust us."

"After exposing Peabody, I think my lack of trust is understandable."

Another rumble in the crowd, this one, I thought, supportive. The Merlin didn't miss it. "Perhaps. But there is still no proof of the creature's claim that it caused the destruction of Chicago. Nor is there any practicality to its actions. That sort of exposure would bring the world of mundane humanity down upon it."

"If it were working alone," I said quietly.

"You have evidence the creature has compatriots?"

"Only what I was able to feel in the air. There is a… taint in the magic surrounding Chicago."

McCoy gave me a confused look. The Merlin lifted an eyebrow. "Interesting. The Senior Council was informed earlier tonight that you were unable to detect anything amiss in Chicago."

I licked my lips. Crap. I saw McCoy close his eyes and grimace slightly. He'd told them everything I'd said earlier. Probably trying to get the Merlin's attention, he'd instead handed him ammunition against me.

I'd just been painted into a corner; I couldn't get help from the Council unless I got them to understand how dire the situation was; I couldn't explain the direness of the situation if I didn't disclose how I figured out how bad it was.

I was about to give away a huge secret. "Yes, Merlin. There is a… stillness in the air. Any wizard's arcane senses would be dulled."

"A stillness. Dulling your senses. Yet you are able to sense a taint?" His words were clipped, full of disbelief. "How?"

"I found a way to pierce it."

"Oh?"

I took a deep breath. _Here we go_. "I have access to Soulfire."

Before, there had been murmurs and rumbles. Now, there was cacophony. Damn near every voice in the chamber started talking. I saw Luccio's jaw drop, and Chandler's eyes expand. Half the Senior Council reacted – McCoy, the Gatekeeper and the Merlin hardly moved. Ancient Mai looked at me with naked disbelief, Martha Liberty appeared to be in awe, and Injun Joe's hand found his chin while his weathered eyes studied me.

Even my transparent companions backed away. The sheer number of voices must have overwhelmed Lash, because I started to hear curses and shock in a dozen different languages. Jones was rapidly taking notes with a simple ballpoint pen.

Langtry never took his eyes off me. He let the noise roar for a ten-count. Then he raised his hand. That was all. Silence re-asserted itself in a matter of moments.

"Soulfire," he said, letting it roll off his tongue. "Such a tool, such a _talent_, is beyond rare, Warden; It is almost unheard of. And there is only one way I am aware of that a person may gain access to Soulfire." He stepped towards me. "It must be granted, as a gift."

I swallowed. Well, in for a penny. "Yes, it was a gift." In for a pound. "From the Archangel Uriel."

Another shocked silence, punctuated by a few little gasps. This time, even the Merlin looked surprised.

He recovered quickly, though he knew the game had changed. I was essentially blessed. If he didn't want to alienate the believers in his constituency, he'd have to play nice. Wouldn't he?

"Even with the gift of an Archangel," he said, "you still feel the need to draw on the Council's resources."

_Obstinate old son of a… All right. Fine. _ "Yes. I do. As I said, the vampire is not acting alone. I need Wardens." Normally, bullies get my back up. Stupid people do that even more. But I let a little pleading note into my voice. For my city. "I need help."

There was silence for a second. Then a voice from the audience asked, "Why Chicago? Why not my village, when it was threatened?"

My mouth dropped open, but I didn't know how to respond. "A fine question," the Merlin said.

I started to panic. And get angry. I hadn't expected to get derailed like this, though I suppose I should have. As my blood pressure climbed, I felt a tightening sensation in my chest. My breath came a little too slowly. My vision started to blur, just a little.

"Something must be done," McCoy spoke up. "They've never gone after a target this big before. If we don't stop them in Chicago, they'll think it's because we _can't_. And that's the end of the delicate balance. Who knows what they'll try next."

I took a deep, steadying breath, and gave my old teacher a look of gratitude.

The Merlin turned his steely gaze to my grandfather. "'They,' Wizard McCoy?" Oh, crap. "And who might 'they' be?"

I ground my teeth. The Merlin's position – and, thus, the position of the Wardens, and the whole of the White Council – was that the Black Council did not exist. Partly, it was out of fear, but mostly it was to keep wizards from looking into it, and maybe starting to think about joining up.

McCoy could not be intimidated by a piercing glare. "You know who I'm talking about, Alfie," he said quietly, in English.

In the silence that followed, I looked at the audience. I saw mostly confusion and uncertainty. Some people looked to be spoiling for a fight. Others were on the fence. I had to win the audience, or Chicago would be dead in the water.

Before I could say anything more, Martha Liberty, for the first time, stepped forward. "It should be put to a vote."

"Seconded," Ancient Mai said.

"Wait," I tried.

"Motion is carried," the Merlin said, cutting me off. "The question before the Senior Council is whether to intervene in Chicago, or to wait and see what becomes of the situation on its own." He shot me a look. "I cast two votes against intervention."

"I vote in favour," McCoy said without any hesitation.

"As do I," Listens-to-Wind said.

"Against," Ancient Mai said.

Martha Liberty, despite moving for the vote, took a moment to think it over. She glanced out at the audience several times, and at me more than once. "In favour," she finally said.

My poor heart started to dance a bit. Three-to-three. Well, that was par for the Council. Everything was contentious.

Everyone turned to the Gatekeeper. With his hood up, he almost blended into the shadow he was standing in. His hand found his chin, and his eyes found the floor. He thought. For a while. I started to get nervous. Then impatient.

The Merlin hit his limit before I did, though. "Gatekeeper? What say you?"

"I am… thinking."

Langtry rolled his eyes.

"Gatekeeper, please," I said. "Lives hang on your decision."

He looked at me, long, cold. Then back down.

That look of dismissal, that complete abdication of the responsibility of the Council, I could take from the Merlin. Probably even from Ancient Mai. But one glance at McCoy told me he was feeling the same way I was: betrayed. The Gatekeeper always had other things on his mind – he was known for thinking outside the usual ways. But there were thousands of lives on the line here.

"Gatekeeper!" I said. My voice was suddenly loud. And angry. "There are thousands of people waiting for your word, and not just in this chamber. Chicago is falling apart."

"Warden, remember yourself!" the Merlin said.

I ignored him. "And the powers that wrought that destruction will not stop there." I tried to step forward, but the room got hazy – I was moving out of range of the projection rock. I stepped back. "You know who I'm talking about, Rashid! You've watched the ebb and flow of time itself, and even you can't tell what's happening! You know that intervening is the right thing to do. Don't hesitate, don't wait, don't think, don't send it to a committee, just act!"

He looked at me again, then said nothing.

"We are the only thing standing between those forces and the rest of the human world. If we don't stop them now, who knows what could do? No, we haven't saved every village, or every single life, and for that, I am sorry, and I feel guilty. But I can't change what's happened before. I'm asking the Council to change what's happening _now_. To stop these people, or things, or whatever they are before they achieve their goals. We have to do something!"

Nothing. Not even a glance.

My anger got the best of me, and my voice got quiet. "Fine. I have to go. My city, and the people I'm entrusted to protect – by this Council! – need me." I turned back to the audience. Everyone was staring at me. "They need someone. I guess Peabody was right. The Council is a dinosaur, and deserves to die. Its time has come."

I put my hand in my pocket to sever the connection. The audience was looking at me, and at least two thirds of the faces were angry. Probably at me and my improper outburst. Well, screw them, too. I felt a burst of pain in my chest again, and knew I had pushed myself a little too hard. I was suddenly light-headed. I needed to rest. I turned back to Gatekeeper – to give him a parting rebuke, or the finger, I hadn't quite decided.

He was smiling. The Merlin was fuming, Mai was inscrutable, but the Gatekeeper had thrown back his hood and was smiling at me. "I vote in favour," he said.

I looked back at the audience. They were nodding, and rumbling. There were calls for action, and more than a few cheers. The angry faces, then, hadn't been directed at me, but in my favour. Huh.

The Merlin took a breath. He seemed to have accepted the will of the people, like a good politician, though he was obviously unhappy about it. Behind him, Ana was shaking her head at me, a tiny curl of a smile on her lips. Chandler touched the brim of his hat.

McCoy stepped up beside me. "Go home, Harry. I'll take it from here. We'll see you in about 12 hours."

I nodded, a little stunned. "See you then."


	6. Chapter 6

When I broke the speaking stone connection, the world went black for a moment. Light faded back in on in the back room of St. Mary's. Molly, Elaine and Murphy were there, sitting at the tiny table. I smiled as I moved a foot to break the circle, then stumbled a little.

My legs were weak. My breath was strained, and my chest hurt a little, and I really wanted to lie down – but I didn't feel powerless. I'd actually accomplished something. "Ha!" I said. Molly was under my right arm in a flash; my left hand found my chest.

"Harry?" Elaine was speaking. "Are you okay?"

"Better than that." Molly eased me into a cot. "Gatekeeper got me fired up enough that I could fire up everyone else. Cagey old fox. We've got reinforcements coming."

"The Council?" Murph asked.

I nodded. "It took some well-formed arguments, but they're coming. McCoy said to give them 12 hours. We'll meet at neutral ground."

"Good to know."

"Yeah," Molly said, her voice flat. "Great."

"Really terrific," Elaine added, sounding exactly like Molly.

I lay down, breathing hard. "Don't worry, you two. You'll be fine. I promise. Wardens are going to have more important things to worry about."

Molly gave me a weak smile. I took it. "Where's Sanya?"

Murphy stood up and glanced at the door. "He said something about a vampire, asked me to watch you. I told him not to go far."

"Good. Murph, I need rest."

"Obviously."

"When I get up, we need to head back to your place, collect a few things."

She glanced at Elaine and Molly. "No problem."

"You guys should get some sleep, too. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

Someone said something back to me, but I missed it; I was already asleep.

I was sitting in my office. Impossible, of course. I looked across my desk at a handsome bastard. "Why do we always meet here?" I asked.

My subconscious shrugged, and made it look rugged. His stubble helped. "It's familiar, and now that it's gone, you always know it's a dream right away. Makes you easier to deal with."

I snorted and looked at the other chair, occupied by a beautiful brunette woman in robes. "Lash."

"Harry." She nodded at me politely.

Back to my inner twin: "So, you call this meeting?"

"Yeah. But I only wanted to say, we're finally on the same page about… well, just about everything."

One of my eyebrows jumped. "'Just about', huh? And what, exactly, are we in disagreement about?"

"Not disagreement. More like, I want to draw your attention to something."

I rolled my eyes. "All right. So, should we do the whole back-and-forth, or can we skip to the point where you get frustrated and just tell me?"

He smiled. Inner Me kind of reminded me of Thomas, with his casual good looks and devil-may-care manner. He was essentially the side of me I had to keep an eye on, lest he get out of control. He was the part of me that had thought, from time to time, about just cutting loose and blowing up the whole damn world when it seemed everything and everyone was against me.

He was also the part of me that had naughty, inappropriate thoughts.

"All right, let's just cut to it: Molly."

My second eyebrow joined the first. "Finish that thought, before I make assumptions."

His turn to roll his eyes. Or my eyes. Whatever. "Not that way. Though, she has grown up nicely."

"No argument. Now get to the point."

He sighed. "You really have got to let me drive, from time to time. All right; Molly and Mab. Mab has outright said, a couple times, that she wants you for the Knight position. So what's with Molly's story?"

I leaned back in my chair. I hadn't even realised I was sitting up so straight. "I have no idea. It doesn't make any sense. Sidhe can't lie, so if Mab said she wanted me…"

"Then she wanted you. Probably still does. Which means?"

I frowned. "Either Molly was lied to, which is impossible, or there's something going on with Mab. Something that changed her mind."

"Maybe she's gone nutty, just like her sister Queen."

"Maybe. I have no proof. I'll have to keep an eye on Molly. If Mab's just using her somehow…"

"Well, she's under orders to stick to you like glue, so keeping an eye on her shouldn't be hard."

"True." I paused. "This is the most civil conversation I think we've ever had."

"'We'? Harry, you're just talking to yourself."

I opened my mouth to reply.

I woke up about then. _Bastard always gets the last word_.

I took stock of myself. I was warm. My chest didn't hurt, my head wasn't very foggy, and my eyes were just a little bleary. There was someone lying next to me.

Elaine. I shifted my head, and she woke with a deep breath. "Hey," she said. The corners of her mouth curled up, just a little. I loved it when they did that.

"Hey yourself." The cot was crowded, but I didn't care. We were up against a wall, and using my duster as a blanket. I checked my watch; it was a shade after nine o'clock. "Whoa. I was out for almost eight straight hours? I got an honest to goodness full night's sleep?"

"It seems to agree with you. Maybe you should try it more often."

"Hardy-har. I don't feel rested." My gut growled. "Just hungry, apparently."

She smiled at me.

I smiled back. "Thanks. For keeping me warm last night."

"You mean the hot chocolate?"

"No."

She smiled again. "Just one of the many services I offer. I would urge you to take me up on them."

And all at once, I was a little _too_ warm. "Well, you know, some urges just can't be denied." I leaned a little closer.

My stomach growled again, louder. "No kidding," she said, and rolled out of the cot. I dropped my head back down. "Oh, hello, Mouse."

I saw my dog's massive head rise off the floor. Elaine scratched his ears, then stood. He turned to me, lowered his head to the cot, and set his nose close to mine. He seemed to be grinning. "You're probably hungry, too."

He tilted his head to one side.

"Oh, don't look so innocent." I clambered up as the great furry beast laughed at me. Yeah, my dog laughed. I'm sure of it. I think.

I needed coffee.

I shrugged into my duster, grabbed my staff, staggered out of the back room behind Elaine and beside Mouse, and we all made our way toward the nave. There we found Molly and Father Fraser passing out coffee, orange juice and toast. It was probably all that was left. There were no children remaining here; all the families and stray kids had been shipped off yesterday, as had the elderly. About 70% of the remainder were male, and everyone was in their late 20s to early 50s.

Most of the light was now artificial, with little coming in through the windows. The overhead hanging lights were on. In the background, I heard a generator humming.

I glanced around as we got in line. There were still at least two hundred people here, and I didn't see Murphy or Sanya, though a few soldiers were in evidence. A trio of them were speaking energetically off in a corner, using hand gestures.

Curious, I took a breath, cleared my head, and concentrated all my attention on my sense of hearing. Listening is a talent that most people can learn, if they take the time to. I guess a little magic helps, but it's the act of concentration and focus that really makes it happen. The voices of the soldiers slowly faded into my awareness.

"Doesn't matter," one of them said. "They can hook up snowploughs. The real problem is that only one route is open."

"And what's with that Russian guy and the chick who are wearing swords?" a second man asked. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"You want to tell them to take them off? Besides, I heard she was a cop, or something."

"You know what's weird?" the third guy asked. "I heard all those fires are still burning. Even after that dump we got last night."

"It's just gas, Lee," Soldier #1 said. "They can't get it shut off."

"Oh," Lee said. It was pretty obvious he was the lowest ranking one in the conversation. "So what do we tell people?"

"Nothing, unless they ask, and then you just say the buses are coming, just a little held up by the weather. But you make it clear we are getting people out today. If the damn choppers weren't needed on the lake, we'd be getting them out already."

"So," #2 asked, "what do we do until the bus gets here?"

"That's a stupid question, soldier," the first man said, and walked away. The other two looked embarrassed, then began to make like soldiers again, rather than teenage girls.

I stopped Listening. It appeared evacuation was going to be slow, due to snow. Just as the Winter Knight happens to come back to town. Great. I smiled and took a plastic cup of warm ambrosia from said Knight. She smiled back.

I shoved some toast down my throat and had just taken my first gulp of coffee when the front doors opened. Murphy and Sanya both trudged in. Through the door, I saw very little other than darkness. The world was still, covered in a thick blanket. They shoved the doors closed again. Sanya headed for the Guardsmen, Murphy headed for me.

"Morning," she said.

"Did you sleep?" I asked.

"I got about four or five hours last night. Feel great."

"Weird."

She glanced at the hilt of the Sword over her shoulder. "Yeah, a bit."

"What's outside?"

She shrugged. "Snow. Boatloads of it. It's stopped falling, but we're completely overcast out there." Her voice lowered. "No trace of anything else."

My voice went low, too. "Oh, it's out there. Just not in the neighbourhood."

She nodded in agreement. "You ready to go?"

"Let me finish gulping." I burned my tongue and throat a bit, but my stomach finally shut up and my eyes finished opening. "Okay, once Molly's ready - "

"I'm here." I turned to my former apprentice, who was approaching. She had her sword over her shoulder and her jacket in her hand. She looked… well, not unhappy, but there was no joy in her face today, not like when her family had been around. She looked… _cold_. "We heading back to Karrin's?"

I looked at the still-moving breakfast line. "You good to leave?"

"Yeah, Father Fraser doesn't really need me. I was just killing time until you woke up." She shot a glance at Elaine.

"Hey, I didn't wake him," she said.

"I'm sure you didn't."

"Sanya coming?" I asked, heading off all further conversation.

Murph shook her head. "People seem less nervous when he's around. He's staying here until all the civilians are clear."

"Makes sense. He is the Knight of Hope. All right. Let's get moving. I've only got a couple hours before the Wardens arrive, and I want to be able to point them and all their smite in the right direction."

I saw Molly and Elaine exchange another glance, but I ignored it. Molly was safe, now, and Elaine? Well, I'm sure no one had given Justin DuMorne and his former apprentices a thought in years.

Yeah, and I could just about talk myself into buying swampland in Florida. Elaine and I, both orphans, had both been adopted by DuMorne, a former Warden. We didn't know Justin had gone off the deep end at some point, and had decided to raise his own army of magical enforcers, starting with the two of us.

That debacle had led to my first exposure to black magic, my first sense of betrayal, my first encounter with an Outsider - which I still don't clearly remember – and the first time I'd killed somebody.

I don't like to think about it much. Point is, as far as the Council was concerned, I had been Justin's only apprentice, and they'd kept an eye on me my whole life. If anyone found out about Elaine, she'd be subject to the same scrutiny. And she takes to scrutiny even worse than I do.

The five of us left with little more than a couple waves to Sanya and Fraser. Outside, the air was crisp, and the sun was hiding. The mid-morning looked more like twilight. I expected that to change as we moved out of the shadow of the church, but conditions barely improved. Had the power been on, I'm sure streetlights would have been burning.

Two blocks from St. Mary's, in the shadow of a massive spruce tree, Molly opened a hole in reality. The other side of the portal, opening into a frozen glade in the lands of Winter, didn't look much different from the snow-blasted yard we stood in, aside from being brighter.

Stepping through, I felt the change, though; something in the air felt _ominous_. Not dangerous, not evil, exactly, but I had the sudden – and I'd bet accurate – feeling that we were being watched. Mouse let out a short, low growl, as though warning the air itself he was not to be trifled with.

The air must have listened, because nothing crossed our path en route to Murphy's house. But that could have been the Winter Knight's presence, too. We traipsed through frozen woodland for about twenty minutes before Molly held up her hand for a stop.

I was flexing my hands and stomping my feet as she sunk her fingers into the air and pulled it open. I kept watching the area around us, certain that something was going to jump out and make our lives miserable. Or short. Nothing happened, despite my trepidation. Finally, I just followed the ladies through the portal. I stepped out onto dry pavement in weak sunshine.

That probably should have been enough warning. But hey, I hadn't slept well.

We had come out three houses down from Murph's place, emerging from a wall of a garage. Elaine stamped her feet, shaking off snow that was already melting into ectoplasm. "Well," she said, "I'll say this much for Summer; their Ways are much nicer to walk."

"You just have to get used to the cold," Molly said, oddly cheerful.

"What are you so chipper about?" Elaine asked.

Molly watched the portal shut, then sighed. "I'm not sure," she said quietly.

As we walked down the street, my radar started to ping. One look told me Elaine hadn't felt anything. "Anybody got a weird feeling?"

"No," Elaine said. "Which I guess is kind of weird itself."

"We're still being watched," Murphy said, glancing from side to side. "Let's make this quick."

I nodded, my eyes jumping from shadow to shadow. At an unspoken signal, we all picked up the pace a bit. I side-stepped Thomas' car – which Molly had driven across several yards and sidewalks to get here – dodged around the Blue Beetle, my favourite – and only – vehicle, and across the green yard. The beaten up old Volkswagen had taken a lot of punishment over the years, but somehow always managed to avoid the worst of whatever we got into. I usually ended up taking that.

I hurried up to the door, dug a key out of my jeans pocket, and slipped inside. Mister almost tripped me as I went, coming the opposite way. He jumped out onto the lawn, looked around, then made a mad dash for the other side of the street.

I was through the door and grabbing a bag full of quasi-legal items that I had taken years to collect before I paused and asked myself, "Why was there no snow on the lawn?"

Naturally, that's when the screaming started.

"Harry!" I heard Murphy's voice through the wall. My arm had the bag over my shoulder and my legs started carrying me out of the bedroom before I was even aware I was I was moving. With the tarp over the hole that had been the front window, the living room was dark, and I couldn't see the street.

I stopped just long enough to shake out my shield bracelet – a beautiful, and slightly expensive, early Christmas present from Elaine. Doing so kept me from getting crushed.

The tarp, and a good chunk of the wall around it, exploded inward. I threw out my left hand, and fed my panic into my magic; a half-dome of transparent blue energy came into existence between me and the orange tarp. The tough nylon hit my shield, driving me back a step, but the barrier held. The tarp fell to the ground.

Two things had flown through the wall at me. One was a short, muscular, hairy, unhappy-looking man wearing nothing but a loincloth and a toothy grin. A hobgoblin.

The other was a tall, lithe, beautiful woman wearing nothing but a pair of wings. Her mouth was full of sharp teeth. A sylph.

I'm not fond of hobgoblins; the smaller, less ugly cousins of goblins aren't as dangerous as their relatives, though they are annoying.

But I fucking _hate_ sylphs. And they had just attacked people I cared about.

I dropped my shield and thrust my staff at her, shouting, "_Forzare_!"

A blast of ethereal force caught her and tossed her back out the window, but the hobgoblin seized the opportunity to lunge at me. I threw myself into a roll, towards the front door. The stout faerie flew over me, into the bedroom. I bounced to my feet and shouldered the door open.

The yard was in chaos. Elaine was fending off two sylphs and three hobgoblins, Mouse at her back, wand in her hand and bracelets and rings flashing. That was actually good; it meant they hadn't invoked her debt to Summer. Murphy was up against a pair of each, _Fidelacchius_ drawn, and Molly was surrounded by three pairs, sword in one hand, wand in the other.

I was almost insulted that only two creatures had come after me. Murphy was closest. I tossed my staff into my left hand and reached under my duster for another piece of wood: my blasting rod. Anger fuelling my magic, I levelled it at the hobgoblin directly behind her, and said, "Get away from my friend! _Fuego_!"

Fire jumped from me to the ugly little creature, setting its loin cloth aflame. He immediately started to scream in pain. _Well_, I thought, _you probably regret melting all the snow now, don't you? Ass_. Before the others could react, I dropped my rod, grabbed my staff in both hands, and shouted, "_Ventas fortius_!"

A gale-force wind picked up behind me and swept forward, down over Murphy's house and through her yard. The hobgoblins, Mouse, and humans braced themselves, but the sylphs, being airborne, didn't have that option. Which was kind of the idea.

Two of the naked air faeries dissipated completely, the rest blew out over the street, tumbling end over lovely end. The wind died, and I threw a fist in the air. "Ha!" I shouted intelligently. Then I fell to my knees. The effort of the spell had winded me. Seriously, this heart attack thing was really annoying.

Speaking of annoying, the hobgoblin who'd missed me inside the house didn't miss a second time. I felt him hit my back with a growl, and I went down with a grunt and a mild case of whiplash.

"Harry!" That was Molly's voice. I recognised it despite being face down in soft earth.

"Dresden is mine!" a new voice announced. A new, yet familiar voice. The weight on my back vanished, and I managed to lift my head. Turned it.

A man stood on the neighbour's lawn, dressed in white linen pants, a green polo, and heavy boots. He held a long sword in both hands. His face was youthful. His hair was a soft white.

"You!" Molly shouted at him. Three hobgoblins jumped between them. Of course they did. They were protecting their superior from his rival.

I struggled to my knees, wiped a little mud off my face, and looked at the Summer Knight. "Hello, Fix," I said. "It's been a while."

He started walking slowly towards me, sword at guard. I reclaimed my blasting rod, got to my feet and brought out my shield bracelet again. I heard Mouse growling as he took down a hairy faerie. From the corner of my eye, I saw the sylphs recovering and returning. But I kept my focus on Fix. He got within six feet of me. I readied my staff. He said, "I'm sorry, Harry," and took a swing at me.

A long, slow, lumbering swing. I mean, he freaking telegraphed it. I avoided this brilliant killing blow by simply taking a step back. The tip of his sword landed in the dirt, and sank in.

I looked him in the face, raised an eyebrow. _This_ was Summer's champion? A quick glance to the side showed me Molly, who was keeping three hobgoblins and two sylphs at bay practically one-handed. He wrenched the sword out of the ground and looked at me. "Well, don't just stand there," he said. "Keep backing up!"

"Fix, what the hell is going on?"

He lifted the sword again, and walked slowly at me. "I have no choice, Harry. I don't want to do this. But the Queen commands it." He lowered the sword again – I can't really call it 'attacking me' – and I again avoided it.

I ducked behind a tree, and Fix swung again.

His sword sank into the tree trunk. Deep. He began to make a show of pulling it out, taking his time. I took the moment to breathe.

"You are the strangest friend I have, Fix. If you're not pointing a gun at my face, you're swinging a sword at my neck." We had worked our way across the front of the house. Behind Fix, I watched as my compatriots beat the living snot out of Summer's Finest. I turned back to the Knight, whose sword was still stuck. "But you're not really here to kill me, are you?"

The smiled out of one side of his mouth, though there was no joy in it. "The Queen's command was 'Try to kill Dresden.' I'm technically sticking to the letter of her will; I will _try_. But I have no intention of _succeeding_. So, I brought the least deadly back-up I could. Though I still have to put on a show for them."

"Wow. You really have spent too much time at Court."

He finally yanked his sword free. "Harry, Lily's missing."

That grabbed my attention. The last time Lily went missing, the Sidhe Courts came within inches of causing the end of the world in a massive war. That incident had been set off by Aurora, the former Lady of Summer, and daughter of Titania. I'd only recently found out that she'd been acting on Mommy Dearest's orders.

"What happened?" I stepped back again. We were slowly moving around the side of the house, out of sight of everyone else.

"I don't know." _Swing-and-a-miss_. "But I think Titania took her. Hid her." There was a slight panic to his voice now. He loved Lily; she'd been his friend and princess long before she was inducted into the Sidhe Courts. "No one can find her, and only the Queen could put someone beyond the sight of every creature in the Court."

I nodded, thinking about Molly, and the fun I had trying to find her. "Yeah." I ducked under another swing. "I know. So, you finally believe me about Titania? You remember what I told you last time I saw you, right? That she's cracked?"

"Yes," he finally said, "I know. I've heard her, Harry. Talking to herself. To voices only she can hear. Talking about destroying the mortal world."

"Really? And what – " _duck_ " – does she say to them?"

"The details vary, but she's always talking about letting the outside in."

I was stunned enough that I almost forgot to duck the next blow. "Careful," the Knight said.

"She was talking to Outsiders?" I asked, and my voice started to rise.

"I don't know. But she's been getting worse. And now, with Lily…" He swung again, and hit the corner of Murph's house. The sword got stuck again.

I took the moment to launch another gale at the mess on the lawn. The last three sylphs blew away, then Murphy and Molly each impaled a hobgoblin. "Looks like my side's winning."

"What? Oh, no, Harry, don't let them - !"

Mouse sank his teeth into the last hobgoblin's neck, and a moment later the body began to disintegrate into ectoplasm. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"If we failed, the gruffs were to try next!"

Ah, yes. The anthropomorphic goats, who were famed as troll killers. You may have heard of them. I certainly had. "Oh, shit."

"Harry?" Elaine called, heading over to us. "Are you okay?"

"Knock me out!" Fix said.

"What?" I asked.

"The gruffs will be here in moment. If I'm still standing, they'll go after everyone, but if I'm down, they'll chase you."

"Gruffs?" Elaine said, her voice now doing the little rising trick. "Why are gruffs coming?"

"Because you killed all the idiots I brought with me!" he told at her. He turned to me. "They'll only chase you so long as you're in our part of town."

"Your part of town? What are you - ?"

The ground shook. All of us, even Mouse, snapped our heads around. The sound came from behind the house. "Oh, please tell me that's not Big Brother."

"The Elder Gruff will wait. But all his brothers – Harry, knock me out, and get away!" The house shook, the ground shook, even the air shook with an angry bellow. I'd met the Middle Brother before. 'Tiny' was a barrel of laughs. And his nickname was _very_ ironic.

"Harry, what the hell is happening to my house?" Murphy asked.

Elaine and I were backing away. The whole building seemed to shift, and the mortar came loose in chunks from around the brickwork.

"Dammit, Dresden, knock me down, and get as far away as you can! I'm begging you!" Fix shouted.

Movement caught my eye from above. With a crashing sound, two walking goat-men, complete with reversed knees and massive horns, not to mention white, tufty hair, had landed on the roof of Murphy's poor house. They were dressed in weathered leather, their hoofed feet exposed. Their eyes found me.

"All right, Fix. I promise I won't enjoy this too much." I lifted my staff, put it in his face, and shouted, "_Forzare_!"

The Summer Knight flew backward, across the lawn and into a tree in the neighbour's yard. A pine tree. Full of needles and cones. Don't get me wrong; Fix is a friend. But every time I see him, we seem to be on the opposite side of things. And I can only take a friend wielding a weapon against me so many time before I take pleasure in wielding back.

I saw him lift his head from the ground, smile, and drop flat.

"Wow," I heard Molly say. "I have _got_ to master that spell."

I didn't even have a chance to smile. The gruffs on the roof howled, and another bellow from the backyard echoed over the neighbourhood. The house shifted again.

"Harry, go!" Elaine shouted. "We'll catch up!"

I'm an old-fashioned guy. I like to open doors for women, and I won't hit them unless I have no choice. And the idea of running away while three of them cover my ass is completely unthinkable. "I can't just - !"

She grabbed the lapels of my jacket, yanked me close, and kissed me. It was hard, passionate, and warm. Then it was over, and she was pushing me away. "Stars above, Harry, you heard what Fix said - run!"

One of the gruffs came down behind her. Before his claws could rake her back, she'd thrown herself to the ground. I raised my staff and shouted, "_Forzare_!"

The gruff flew into – and then through – the wall of Murph's house. Whoops. The place sagged even more. Then three more gruffs came down on the lawn like ugly rain. Murphy and Molly had their swords moving. Iron, or an iron alloy like steel, is anathema to fae. They call it the Bane, and it's great for holding them off.

Mouse growled beside me. There was a brain-rattling growl from the house, and the corners began to twist. Middle Brother gruff was coming through. Elaine got up. "We're fine, now go, lead them away!"

She turned around and flicked her wrist, sending one of the younger gruffs flying. "All right, fine, just meet me at Mac's as soon as you can!"

"Count on it."

"Mouse, stay with Elaine!" I hated myself, but I turned and ran. The key to the Blue Beetle was in my pocket, and I had the door open in a second. I could only hope that the magic in the air hadn't fried its engine. Again.

I tossed my staff, rod, and bag in the passenger seat, then slammed the door and cranked the key. The engine wheezed once, twice, then caught.

As I watched, Murphy's house began to lean, dangerously. Mouse jumped and levelled a gruff that was attacking Molly, then all three women moved away from the house in separate directions, Mouse chasing Elaine. I shoved the car in gear and backed up… right into Thomas' imported Stupidmobile. Metal ground on metal, and I hit the brakes.

I saw Elaine pause, Mouse stopping just past her.

The grinding sound continued. I looked forward again, and watched as the old Murphy place breathed its last. _Oh, stars and stones, Karrin_, I thought. _I am so sorry_.

The entire structure leaned forward and fell, with an almost graceful motion. Dust flew up, and within the shadow of it, a goat-creature the size of a small cement truck stepped forward. Middle Brother. He was bigger than the last time I'd seen him.

I jammed the Beetle into first gear and floored it. The tires spun a moment, squealing since I was stuck to Thomas' car. Elaine was hesitating, looking between me and the goat-man convention, trying to decide. I'd have been in the same state of mind in her place.

The younger gruffs moved to flank their brother, and all were looking at me. None of them seemed too happy. The big guy roared again, and leaned forward, into a charge.

"Oh, Hell's bells," I cursed. I had about six seconds before I was crushed and pulverized. Or pulverized and crushed. Whichever. "Sorry, Thomas!"

I gunned the engine, cranked the wheel, twisted in my seat, pointed my hand, and almost screamed, "_Forzare_!"

The back window of the Beetle exploded outward, as did the windshield of the Ferrari. The car was pushed back, just a little, but it was enough to rock it on its shocks, hopefully lifting it just enough that –

The Beetle jerked forward to the right, and I was slammed into my own door. I shot across the neighbour's lawn as Tiny slammed into the expensive car I'd just escaped from. Tiny howled in pain as some of the metal in the car bit into him, his wounds instantly beginning to smoke.

I bumped over the curb, and threw the Beetle into second. I saw Elaine and Mouse running again, hopefully to safety.

The lesser gruffs helped their brother out of the wreckage, then all five of them were running down the street after me. And gaining. Crap.

I shifted into third, glanced in the rear-view, and tried to ignore the Jurassic Park moment I was having. Murphy's street wasn't very long; I barely got up to speed before I had to turn. The gruffs cut the corner, gaining more. They were only about four car lengths back, now.

Fortunately, this street was longer, and as I picked up speed, I began to lose my stragglers. There was a crack in the road ahead, doubtless caused by the earthquake; I cranked the wheel left and shot up someone's driveway at an angle, across their lawn with a bone-jarring thump, then over another curb and back onto the street. My pursuers began to fall behind, taking almost three full seconds to round the house and continue the chase.

A few houses later, and the snow began to reappear. I looked again out the now-missing rear window, and saw the gruffs fading into the distance. I smiled a little; score one for the good guys.

The adrenaline began to wear off, and as I drove, I started to shake, both with the cold and the chemical withdrawal. A moment later, my breathing hitched – I honestly couldn't take a breath. A sudden pain shot through my forehead and down my neck, and my vision blurred. My chest felt tight.

My foot slid off the gas pedal, and my left arm started to feel very heavy. I lost feeling in my left hand for a second, and dizziness overwhelmed me. I couldn't even cry out. My head rolled back, and my other hand fell off the wheel.

"_Dresden… hear me…_"

I jerked forward with a… well, a jerk. My head hit the steering wheel and stayed there. The air was driven from my lungs, and is took several tries to get it back in. If the horn on my poor car had worked, it would have been going off.

Slowly, I got my arms working again, and was able to push against the dashboard, getting my head upright. I blinked a few times, looked around.

I'd drifted into a snow bank, not far from half a dozen other cars, all parked at odd angles. My vision cleared. Despite the low light, I could see. I spent a moment breathing, and massaging my chest, hoping that somehow it would translate through to my heart, telling it to calm down and act normal.

_Harry?_ Lash's voice.

_Yeah?_

_I… heard something._

_Something? The voice, calling my name? You heard it?_

_Yes. I believe I may have heard it before, though I did not realize what I was hearing. I felt it as a thrum of power against you, not as a voice._

_Do you recognize it?_

_Not as such, yet it seems familiar. Something very old…_

She trailed off. _Well, let me know when you figure it out. I'm going to dig us out._

I pushed the driver's door open, and got it almost 8 inches before it jammed in snow. Remarkably hard snow, like it had frozen overnight. I suddenly became aware of the cold again, and it was bitter, despite a lack of wind. I breathed on my fingers to keep them from freezing, then changed tactics and crawled over to the passenger door, which opened easily. Back on my feet, I looked around. The whole area seemed darker than it should have, even with the sun hidden. It seemed…

_Lifeless_.

I new chill worked its way down my back, and my spider-sense tingled.

I spun, activating my shield and lifting my staff. There, in the middle of the road, not ten feet from me, was a short, lone figure in a black robe. The figure's hood was up, hiding their face, like a cowl.

Crap.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Man, I have been negligent lately. I blame the time of year; lots of travel, lots of other things to do. So, New Year's resolution: more frequent posting of new chapters. Thanks to all readers who are still hanging in there – I don't know whether you'll cheer or cry when I say this story is approaching the halfway point. Ah, well. Happy New Year!**

The robed person started walking towards me, slowly. "Stop moving!" I called. I had gone up against Cowl before. The necromancer was pure evil, and just a little mad. Not angry-mad, but crazy-mad. The first time we'd faced each other, he'd been trying to execute a ritual called a Darkhallow, which involved absorbing the spirits and essences of as many dead humans as he could, feeding his own power. I'd taken exception to that, obviously.

Cowl's real name was Klaus Schneider, who I remembered as a portly, quiet wizard, with a penchant for using wind-up toys as foci. The portliness, at least, had been faked.

On the other hand, I also remembered him being a bit taller than this robed figure.

I lowered my staff, but not my shield. "Kumori?" I asked. Kumori was Cowl's apprentice. She had seemed a bit more reasonable than her master.

She finally stopped, about three feet away, just beyond my shield. She reached up, and threw back her hood. I was a bit surprised that she looked so… normal. Light brown hair, sharp eyes, slightly crooked nose. "My name is Mathilde." She pronounced it strangely, with the syllables drawn out.

That made sense. No wizard wants another wizard to know how to pronounce their name properly – Names have power. "Mathilde Schneider." He accent was difficult to place – kind of German, but not quite, with a long 'L' and harsh vowels.

That also made sense. Klaus was Belgian. "Schneider? He's your father."

She glanced away and nodded. "He is." She looked back at me, specifically my left arm, still out-stretched. "I propose a truce, sworn on our power. Five minutes? To speak?"

Well, my shoulder _was_ getting sore. "Agreed."

I lowered my hand and stopped feeding energy into the focus. I let my staff fall against my shoulder and tapped a little Hellfire for warmth. It appeared as a tiny, glowing ball in my right hand, which I held my left hand over. Kumori – or Mathilde – was a powerful wizard, and her magic was unlike anything I could conceive, rooted in the power of death. I wanted her to know I had power she couldn't touch.

The scent – no, that's not right – the _stench_ of brimstone started to climb into my nostrils. Hers, too.

"Hellfire?" she asked, focussed on my hands.

"Yeah," I said, completely neutral. She looked up, something close to… well, not _respect_, but interest, in her eyes.

"You are remarkable," she said, almost to herself. I ignored it.

"Let's cut to it. Why are you here?"

She took a breath. "I go where I am needed."

"What, like a superhero? Or a Knight of the Cross?" Same thing, in my mind.

"Not exactly. Father and the others have concentrated here. I go where I am told to go."

"So, what, the whole Circle is here? In Chicago?"

She looked at me like I was slow. Which, I admit, I might have been. "As far as I know, yes."

"And you're here with them?"

"Yes."

"So why aren't you trying to kill me?" I got a sudden case of severe paranoia, but tried to ignore it. If she was just distracting me so one of the others could sneak up and kill me…

"Your death would not help me. Given your feelings about my magic, and your talent, bringing you back would prove difficult."

"Fair point." The Schneiders' 'magic' was necromancy, or death magic. It was unnatural, counter to everything magic was supposed to be. Magic was a power, an energy, based in life and creation. Necromancy was not. It was death and destruction, manipulation and control. It was _wrong_. I'd made my views on that quite clear to her last time we'd spoken. "Doesn't actually answer my question, though."

She took a deep breath. "Your reputation, for survival, for disrupting their plans, is great. If you are dead, you will not be able to stop them. To stop him."

I stared. The implication was huge. "You think he's gone nuts."

"I believe he may have let his ambition cloud his judgment."

My eyebrows found my hairline. "You think he's gone off the deep end."

"I believe he has lost sight of our true goals."

"Completely around the bend."

"His current machinations do not mesh with the principles he raised me with."

"Totally bonkers."

"Are you listening to me?"

"Of course I am. It's just that you're only saying things I already know."

We were silent for a beat. Two.

"Mathilde," I said quietly, "What is he doing? What are they all doing?"

She hesitated, as she had to. But I didn't push, and eventually, she spoke. "I do not know everything. But father wishes…" she trailed off, started again. "He wishes to destroy the whole of the world."

"I want to say that sounds about right, but he struck me more as the rule-you-all type, rather than the destroy-you-all type."

She looked away from me. "His final goal is… to ascend to godhood, destroying the world, perhaps the whole of the universe, then to remake it as he sees fit."

I lost my concentration, and the Hellfire went out. A world created by Cowl. A _universe_ created by Cowl. Would that mean no death, or all death? Or would it matter? "He failed at the Darkhallow."

"Yes."

"That's when he joined up with the Circle. Started helping out the Vampire Courts."

Her eyes came back to my nose. "Yes. He rationalised that his actions would not matter, since once he reworked existence itself, those actions would never have happened." She laughed, and it was hollow. "Everything would be forgotten. Every_one_."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because the dead must not be forgotten!" The sudden surge of passion in her voice surprised me, and I fell back a step.

"The dead?" Something clicked. "Mathilde, who did you lose? Who can't you bring back?" I asked, even though the possible answers were few.

She calmed, and her eyes fell to the ground. "My mother, of course. Over a century ago. She was the first that Father tried to bring back. But she… did not want to. She was happy. She was content, where she was." She paused. "Without us."

"And you don't want daddy destroying everything, because living or dead, your mom goes with it."

She took another deep breath. Then she pulled her hood back up.

I took a step closer. "Why don't you move against him? Why do you still support someone doing what he's doing?"

She took a long, still moment to respond. Her voice sounded thick when she did. "You have lost family, Dresden?"

I sure as Hell had. "Yes."

"Then you know how important it is to hold onto what family you still have. And you know, that no matter what they do, you will keep holding on."

I thought of Thomas, and I got it. She wouldn't walk away from Cowl, because she couldn't. She started to move away from me. I glanced down the street behind me.

"Hey, how did you get the gruffs to back off?"

"The agreement among the Circle is that we will leave each area to the member who claimed it. For now."

"Member who claimed…? You've divvied up my town?" I started getting angry again.

"No. They've divided _their_ town. You should be careful, Dresden. Father does not wish you dead, but he is alone of the Circle in that."

"He doesn't? Seriously? Of all the enemies I've ever made, the necromancers are the only ones who don't want me dead?"

"I do not know why, but he wishes you to live. You and one other, though I am not certain who."

"He's stronger than you are. He wouldn't have a problem bringing me back. Why leave me alive?"

"I say again, I do not know. Though if it seems that to truly end father's plans, you need to die, I will kill you myself."

I didn't doubt her, and I didn't know how to respond. Then she turned, made a gesture, and stepped into a thin opening to the Nevernever. The hole closed up behind her.

I got the Beetle going again, and Lash rode with me. "So," I asked, "what do we make of all that?"

"I have little insight. Though, if she is to be believed, it seems every enemy you have ever made - and failed to kill - is in Chicago."

I grimaced. "Yeah. And carving it up like the Thanksgiving turkey." As I negotiated the slippery streets, squeezing between wrecks and over sidewalks, lawns, parking lots and around snow banks, I looked out to the horizon. There was a smoky haze rising above some parts of town. "Is that fire?"

"I believe so."

"Still burning? Those soldiers were talking about fires not going out. I'm not sure I buy the gas leak theory. You?"

"I am undecided. I have always found it easier to start a fire than to end one."

I thought about watching my apartment burn down. "Yeah. Tell me about it."

We drove the rest of the way to Mac's in silence and darkness. McAnally's Pub is, with absolutely no hyperbole, the single greatest eating establishment in the world. Nestled into the entire basement suite of a shorter, older tower in one of Chicago's many commercial districts, the place exudes a worn-in, yet not run-down, feeling. It's comfortable. There are no electric lights, since Mac knows his clientele would just cause them all to burn out.

The ceilings are low, but I manage. There are a few fans that somehow keep turning, though I have seen a few stalled from time to time. There are 13 carved wooden columns throughout the place, 13 stools along the bar, and 13 tables laid out in a random arrangement that disperses mild build ups-of magical energy.

And Mac serves the greatest beer in the world.

I pulled into the small parking lot of Mac's, avoiding yet another car lodged in yet another snow bank. When the Beetle gasped and slid to a halt, it was one of only two cars in the lot, the other looking relatively new, but partially snowed in. The lot itself had only been cleared once, from the looks of things, and was snowed over again.

I got out, pulled my duster tight, slung my pack and started walking, using my staff to search for hidden ice. Normal people hate slipping and falling – try doing it from 6'7" up.

The door to Mac's is sunken down a few feet, like most of old Chicago – the city was, after all, built on a swamp. That's the main reason Undertown even exists; all the swallowed up old tenements and disused sewers make perfect nesting grounds for creatures that don't much care for the light of day.

I pulled the door open and felt the heat of the place wash over me. Mac's has a few windows, but not many. As a result, Mac always has a few candles burning on the tables, a few on the walls in sconces, and a massive stone oven putting out flames and perfect steak. My eyes found Mac behind the bar, polishing some glasses, as he usually was.

I could smell the wood, the floor polish, and the steak. A glance around showed me no one else. I checked my old watch. The Wardens were late. "Mac," I asked, approaching the bar, "I don't suppose you've seen a Warden or two hiding around here? Maybe Eb McCoy?"

He paused and tilted his bald head, just a little. It was his way of asking if I was an idiot. Which I probably was. I had, after all, been relying on the White Council.

"Great," I said. I put my pack down and shoved my hand in my pocket, grasping the speaking stone. I concentrated, sent my thoughts out to McCoy.

I got nothing back.

"They're probably just late," I tried to convince myself. "Held up by politics, or something." Mac didn't respond, so, to be personable, I said, "I'll have a sandwich."

Mac grunted, put down his glass, then reached under the bar into an old ice box, and pulled out a slab of God's own red meat. I couldn't smell it, but in a moment, when he threw it on the fire –

Except, I _could_ smell it. I already had. Like it had just been cooked. Weird.

And tingly. Little, innocuous things like that aren't supposed to make people suspicious, but sue me – it had been that kind of month, and my spider-sense went crazy. "Mac, did you have a sandwich for lunch?"

He looked at me as he was slicing bread, and shook his head, once.

"Then who did?"

One side of his mouth curled up, just a little, and he looked off to the side of the room. I followed his gaze to an empty table.

The veil fell, revealing two people. One was a lean, leonine-looking man, in loose slacks and tight shirt, covered in a leather bomber, with patent leather shoes. His hair was fair, and just a little longer than you'd expect from a businessman. He kind of looked perfectly normal. But dangerous. He was grinning, and I didn't like it. He stood just over the shoulder of the second person.

She was sitting at the table, and was much smaller – a girl, barely old enough to drive, and slight of build. She wore jeans, an oddly innocuous Hello Kitty sweatshirt, and winter boots. Her face was much more pleasant to look at, polite and graceful, with just a hint of a smile, framed by dirty blonde hair. She had a plate in front of her, and a jacket over the back of her chair.

She stood. "Hello, Mr. Dresden," the Archive said.

"Hello, Ivy," I said, and couldn't help but smile at her. I didn't get off my stool. "You like steak?"

"I have a genetic predisposition towards low iron."

"Ah, I see. What's with the stealth?"

"In current circumstances, one cannot be too cautious."

"No, I guess not. I don't suppose you're here to back me up?" Don't laugh. You haven't seen what the kid can do.

Her bodyguard snorted. She turned to him, very primly, and said, "There's no need to be derisive, Kincaid."

"Normally, I'd agree. But this is Dresden."

She turned back to me, shaking her head. "I cannot join this fight, Mr. Dresden."

I was disappointed, but not surprised. "More than I could hope for, I guess. But please call me Harry. I gave you your name, it's the least you can do."

She smiled again, an expression completely at odds with the rest of her demeanour. "Harry."

"So what brings you to town, if you aren't here to help?"

She approached me, Kincaid two steps behind her, her jacket over his arm. I still didn't get off my stool. One does not make sudden movements around Jared Kincaid if one wishes to continue a pain-free existence. Or any existence at all, really.

"I said I could not join the fight. I am, after all, bound to neutrality." Ivy, or rather, the Archive construct she plays host to, has one purpose: to accumulate knowledge. To that end, if something is written down, or even spoken in the right context, she instantly knows it. I don't mean that she knows that something has been written down; I mean she becomes aware of the knowledge, and can read it, in her mind, like a memory. And she knows everything that's _ever been written_ by a human hand.

Ivy is basically a walking, supernatural encyclopaedia. And of course, her information includes magical knowledge. By an agreement called the Unseelie Accords, the Archive agrees to remain a neutral party in all conflicts.

"However," she continued, stopping in front of me, "I did not say that I couldn't help." She hopped up onto the stool next to mine, and fixed me with a very serious expression.

Kincaid said, "I'm just the hired help, but I will point out that you're walking a fine line, here."

"I am fully aware of what I'm doing, Kincaid, thank you. You failed to talk me out of it before, you will not do so now."

He put his hands up. "Due diligence." Then he walked a few steps away from us and started moving a table and chairs.

"I don't understand," I said. "What are you doing?"

"I am not getting involved in a conflict. I am repaying a personal debt."

"Debt? You don't owe me anything."

"Yes, Harry, I do. A few months ago, you rescued me."

"Kincaid paid me for that. Sorry, he _under_paid me for that."

"I know." She threw a glance at her bodyguard's back, and I could have sworn I watched him suppress a chuckle. "I was talking about saving my life."

"Saving – Ivy, I only did the right thing. You were dying, I had to - "

"When I was dying, you healed my heart."

I paused. "That sounds like a terrible country song."

She sighed. "It is. 4,153 different bands have written variations in the last 69 years."

I laughed. "My heart. I never went to a doctor. How do you know - "

"Karrin Murphy and Elaine Mallory have both written of their concern for you in the past several weeks."

"Written it down? Like, in diaries?"

She nodded, once. "Yes."

"Murphy keeps a _diary_? Oh, she is _never_ living this one down!" I started laughing again. Then I remembered that her house, and, presumably that diary, had just been destroyed. I stopped laughing.

Kincaid gave me a glance over his shoulder. He probably wasn't over their break-up yet. His loss.

"May we begin?" Ivy prodded, politely.

I sighed, looking at the innocent face with the ancient eyes. It would be nice not to have to stop and catch my breath every few minutes. And a returned favour, freely offered from one of the most powerful beings on Earth? How can you say no to that?

I nodded, unsure what to say.

She took my hand and led me to the spot on the floor that Kincaid had just cleared. I left my staff against the bar. She gestured for me to sit on the floor, and I did. Kincaid handed her a container of salt, and she walked a slow circle around me, pouring it out. I tried to relax through controlled breathing, and kept my head clear. After a moment, Ivy was done, and I felt the snap of magic tightening against my skin.

"The blanket over this city is stifling," she said. "Nonetheless, I am ready. Are you?"

I nodded again.

She sat in front of me, legs crossed. "So," I asked, "how does this work? The spell I used needed the blood of someone who loved you, and a gaping wound in your chest."

"I have no access to Soulfire, but I can perform a similar working. Please open your shirt."

One of my eyebrows tried to high jump off my face. "Excuse me?"

She produced a small, silver knife from her back pocket. "I must break the skin, and I don't want to ruin your shirt."

"Well, my wardrobe _was_ just crushed by a giant goat-man." She didn't even blink at that. Kids these days.

I undid the top four buttons on my shirt, and Ivy's eyes scanned over my skin. "You have a great many scars." There was very little inflection in her voice. Most people wouldn't have caught it. But she was disturbed.

I waved a dismissal. "I'm a wizard; they'll never stop healing. A few more years, you won't be able to see them. Just like my hand."

"True. Are you ready?"

"Don't you need the blood of someone who loves me?"

She paused, looked me in the eye for a brief second. "I already have that."

My brows furrowed, all by themselves. "Ivy…"

"Please relax." She put the knife against my skin, and quickly slid it down at an angle. It burned a little, added yet another nifty scar to my collection. I tried not to react, but a little grimace got out.

She put the blade to her own hand without wiping it off, and drew down. Red welled there. She put the knife down between us.

I took one more slightly-deep breath, and felt the tightness in my chest protest. She put her hand against my sliced skin, mingling blood with blood, energy with energy, life with life. I felt a momentary tingle. She closed her eyes. I closed mine, too.

I felt warmth. Her hands were small, but it wasn't the warmth of skin I felt. It was a basic, raw, instinctive warmth, the warmth of a friend's hug, or a mother's kiss, the warmth that's fleeting, yet perfect. Only this wasn't fleeting. This grew, spreading through my body like I'd been immersed in a hot bath.

Then I felt tension, just a little.

Then I felt a _lot_.

Every muscle in my body was suddenly tight, and I couldn't breathe.

My heart stopped.

My eyes popped open, a groan escaped my mouth, but I couldn't move. I saw Ivy's face, mouth and eyes clamped shut in pain. She was just as rigid as I was. I felt blood rushing to my face, and heard my knuckles crack as I made fists. Was this what she had felt when I stitched her back together?

I'd used Soulfire to compensate for my lack of healing knowledge, literally _making_ new cells in her heart and fusing them to the old ones. What she was doing was re-working the cells I already had, reshaping them. It was painful, though ultimately, it was a good kind of hurt, like a deep, healing itch.

Then it was over. I pulled in a deep breath, the warmth departing, replaced by cool air and… _strength_.

I gasped a few times. I felt my chest, where the skin had healed over completely, just small smear of red to bear witness. I jumped to my feet. I felt great. I laughed. The perpetual shortness of breath was gone – I took several deep breaths just because I could. I hit myself in the chest with my fists because I could, and I felt strong enough to take on Tarzan. "Wow," I said, and it came out louder than I intended.

I looked down at Ivy, and she was looking up at me with a satisfied expression. This was like last night, getting the feel for magic back – only this was a feel for _myself_. I felt good. I felt whole. I felt like I could run a marathon.

I felt like _me_. I pulled her to her feet and hugged her, tight. "Thank you," I said, and my voice was wavering a bit.

She squeezed back. "Least I could do," she said. We separated, and she smiled at me. "Good luck, Harry."

"Thanks."

She broke the circle, restoring the circulation of magic in the air, and Kincaid started to lead her toward the door, handing her jacket to her as they moved. Ivy glanced over her shoulder as I settled back on my stool. "Goodbye, Mac," she said. And did I detect a note of affection?

Mac said, "Take care."

She glanced up at Kincaid. "Always."

Huh. Mac's had been accorded a declaration of neutrality a few years ago during the Vampire War. I'd never known how he managed that. Maybe he was chummy with the Archive?

At the door, she paused, zipping up her jacket. Her face looked like someone who was mulling something over, but then, she usually was. "Come, Kincaid," she said. Then she looked right at me. "I don't want to be trapped here, like last time."

Then she was through the door. Kincaid shook his head as he went through. "Fine line, kid. _Very_ fine line." He winked at me, then he was gone, too.

I stood there for a moment, not understanding what she had just said. Last time? She was trapped in Mac's before? _Lash?_

_I do not understand, either. But I do not believe she was talking about the pub._

I shook my head and turned back to the bar. "I'll have a beer, Mac."

He grunted, produced a bottle from beneath the bar, and went back to polishing glasses.


	8. Chapter 8

I tried the speaking stone again before I ate. I didn't need a circle to hear through it, just to activate the video features. I still got nothing from Ebenezar. I tried not to worry. I tried not to think about why my grandfather hadn't shown. I tried not to think about Murphy, Elaine, Molly. I told myself they could take care of themselves.

Myself didn't listen, and kept telling I that we were stupid to have left them all behind.

I ate slowly, because I have a rule: no stress at meals. It's a brand new rule, just made it up, but it's a good one. I put the last bite of my sandwich in my mouth a little reluctantly. I did not want to try the stone again and get no response.

I swallowed. Then I realised I'd left my shirt undone, and rectified that. After a moment's hesitation, I realised I was just putting it off, and it was time to suck it up. If McCoy didn't answer this time, then what?

I'd head back to St. Mary's, recruit Sanya, and go looking for the girls – I mean women. I always get that wrong.

I finished my beer and put my hand in my duster pocket. I closed my eyes and sent a bit of my will into the stone, along with a mental picture of -

_Hoss? That you?_ I heard in my head.

_Sir? Yes, it's me. Where are you?_

_Just got out of the Ways_. He sounded tired. _You at the pub?_

_Yeah. Are you okay? You sound - _

_I'll fill you in face-to-face. Stay put. We'll be there soon._

My eyes popped open. Worry must have been plain on my face, because Mac paused in the middle of clearing my plate. Something had gone terribly wrong.

He lifted an eyebrow at me. "You might want to throw some more steaks on, Mac." I smiled, tight and without joy. "Wardens are coming."

It was less than five minutes later when the door opened, but I'd already been pacing for four and a half. My head snapped around at the scuffing of wood. McCoy was the first one through, and he led the way with his staff – well, one of his staves. I ran the length of the place.

"Sir?"

"Harry," he said, and it sounded like a great weight had just fallen off his shoulders. He was wearing a heavy jacket over his overalls. Wardens began to pour in the door behind him. They looked like hell; cloaks torn, cuts, burns and blood everywhere. I found worry displaced by anger.

"What the hell happened?" I asked, eying him.

"Ambush," said a voice from the door. I looked up again.

"Carlos." I stepped off to the side with my old teacher and my friend – the other Regional Commander in North America. "What ambush? What got the jump on you?"

He grinned, quick and humourless. "What didn't?"

Wardens continued in through the door, slowly, all looking the worse for wear. Joseph Listen-to-Wind entered, helping a young woman with very short hair and a long, recently closed scar down her right arm. He handed her off to another Warden, and approached us. He was followed by Anastasia and Chandler, who had brought up the rear. The door swung closed. There might have been three dozen of us now. Maybe. Some of the worry crept back in.

"It was vampires, mostly," Carlos said.

"Yes," Chandler put in. "Annoying creatures, to say the least." Grey cloak over impeccable suit, bowler hat firmly on his head… a nasty, red, blistering burn covering one side of his face. He was the very definition of stiff-upper-lip right now. Instead of a staff or a silver-alloy sword, the usual mark of a Warden, he carried only a silver-tipped cane, engraved with arcane symbols.

Anastasia continued, "Red Court and Jade Court. Well, I think," she added. When the Jade Court were involved, one could never truly be certain. Well, one other than myself.

I was immune to the Jades' memory-eating tendencies because of a certain mental companion, and that had frightened them enough to stay out of the White Council's war with the Vampire Courts. Until I'd disappeared a few months ago, that was. "_Madre de Dio_, it was shameful," she said. "Completely caught off-guard."

"Goddamn vampires," Carlos said. His eyes flicked to Ana, then Injun' Joe, then McCoy. "Excuse me, sir. Uh, Sirs."

"Sentiment's about right, Warden," McCoy said. "Stars and stones, boy, they tore a strip off us. Knew exactly where we were going to be."

"Which makes no sense," Ana said. "We chose a random route, just before we departed."

"Which means," Carlos picked up, "either they were lying in wait along every possible approach to Chicago - "

"Which is terribly impractical, even with their numbers," Chandler said.

"Or," I finished quietly, "there's still a highly-placed traitor on the White Council."

"That, Hoss Dresden," Listens-to-Wind said, "is entirely possible." The look on his face was one I wouldn't want directed at me. Injun' Joe had been the target of Peabody's mental manipulation – just like McCoy, just like Ana – and he had been decidedly bitter about it. "If you'll excuse me, I have a few people to attend to." The finest healer in the world walked off to help patch up some of the more seriously wounded – a few Wardens who hadn't quite managed to walk in under their own power.

I knew there was probably one more turn coat to be found – I'd been told as much by Mab herself a couple weeks ago – but I'd had no idea who it could have been. But if they could get access to Wardens' plans – and with enough time to pass on such information – they had be on a very small list.

"This is everyone who came?" I asked.

"No," Ana said, and her voice was bitter.

"The Merlin and Ancient Mai refused to come, of course," McCoy said. "Said we couldn't have the whole Senior Council marching off to the unknown, and it made sense, damn them."

"Over a hundred of us set out on this march, Harry," Carlos said. "Including Martha Liberty and the Gatekeeper."

I shook my head, not quite able to comprehend the situation. What could get past the Gatekeeper? That guy had perception that seemed to transcend time itself. "Where are they?"

"Martha was turned back, with about half the force," Ebenezar said. "They were giving a fighting retreat, last we saw… but then, we were kind of doing the same ourselves."

"My best estimate – for I would never deign to _guess_ – would be at least 450 to 500 vampires, mostly Reds," Chandler told us.

"They took out almost thirty of us in the first hit," Ana continued, and now there was guilt mixed with her anger and bitterness. It made me want to hug her, tell her it wasn't her fault, but I couldn't do that, now. Not ever again.

"They didn't get much more than that," Carlos said, "but it wasn't for lack of trying."

"What about the Gatekeeper?" I asked. "He was turned back, too?"

They all glanced at each other. _Oh, shit, no…_

Finally, Ana told me, "We're not sure, Harry. No one saw him fall, but at some point, he just disappeared."

That was some twisted relief. I realised my hands had balled themselves up into fists at some point, and forced myself to relax them. I hadn't realised until this moment that I'd been hoping to speak to Rashid in person. He'd known something was up here long before anyone else – even yours truly.

He had even managed to force the Merlin into accepting intervention in Chicago before anyone – even yours truly – had realised what he was doing.

Don't get me wrong; Ebenezar McCoy, Joseph Listens-to-Wind and more than 30 Wardens was hardly a force to be sneezed at. But the Gatekeeper had a certain remarkable insight that other wizards tended to trust.

Even yours truly.

While I was thinking this, the door banged open again. Three dozen pairs of eyes snapped up at the sound, and almost as many staves, wands, rings and other foci.

"Whoa. Uh, hi there," Molly said from the door. She held her hands up and out to her sides, her sword on her back. She didn't move a muscle. Every Warden knew Molly's face, of course; most of them had last seen her vanishing into darkness of her own making.

That sounds way more dramatic than it is. She failed her final admission test, and due to convoluted – and frankly, fucking stupid – circumstances, she was to be put to death. She cared for that idea about as much as I did, and instead exercised her most natural magical gift – she threw up a veil.

But she had perfected a new kind of veil – the ability to hide _everything_ in a place, _except_ her target. It was basically the opposite of what a veil usually does, and no other wizard considered it a skill worth developing. She'd blinded her guards and examiners, and by the time Ancient Mai herself had undone the super-camouflage, Molly was halfway to being the Winter Knight.

Her eyes settled on me. "Hey, Harry."

How best to play this? I glanced at the trigger-happy crowd. Formally, then. "Welcome, Winter Knight." I stepped forward, facing her, and putting myself between the Wardens and my apprentice – my friend. I gave her a wink.

Invoking her title would make a few of the older wizards pause; no one wanted to piss off the Fae, least of all those who had spent decades protecting the old ways and agreements. Also, even though we were on Council property, there were a lot of us, and we were here first – Molly was functionally our guest, and honouring guests was a major facet of the Old Ways.

Standing in front of her would discourage the younger wizards. I had something of a reputation among the current generation; I don't like to brag, but I'm kind of their Fonzie. I blow a lot of stuff up, always have a grim expression or a charming smile, always tell authority figures to sit on it, and even when I'm called to task, I get out of it. Well, usually.

Molly picked up my vibe, and her posture stiffened a bit. "Wizard Dresden," she said, lowering her hands.

"It's good to see you safe on neutral ground," I said, a little extra volume on the last two words. I waited. After a moment, I heard the scrape of metal in scabbard, the thunk of wooden weapon on wooden floor. Molly, looking over my shoulders, visibly relaxed.

As she stepped down the few stairs to the floor, I turned around to face the army that had come to back me up, against Cowl and Kumori – the Schneiders – against Mavra, and apparently, against the Red Court. Most of them looked chastened, maybe a little embarrassed. Good. Molly was safe.

Of everyone in the place, it was Carlos who stepped forward. "Good to see you, Molly. Or should I say, Miss Knight?"

She smiled. "You, too, Warden." Her eyes tracked over to McCoy, who nodded without coming any closer, then to Ana. He gaze literally became frosty. Her smile died, her fists clenched, and I saw her tense up. "Captain Luccio," she said, and her teeth never separated.

I didn't understand, and looked to Ana.

She had also tensed, and her left hand rested on the pommel of the sword at her belt. "Miss Knight," she said.

Carlos had backed off, out of the line of fire. Behind me, Mac's had gone still except for a few calm utterances from Listens-to-Wind. McCoy still hadn't moved. Chandler was at Ana's right shoulder.

"What's going on? I thought you two got along."

There was a very still silence for another second. Without taking her eyes off the Captain, Molly said, very quietly, "She voted against me, Harry."

"Say what?"

"At my exam." Her voice was still quiet. Like the air right before a massive storm hits. Crap. "She was one of the three examiners."

"That – that can't be right, Molly. Ana? What happened?"

The Captain hesitated, which told me all I needed to. But I let her speak, because I wanted to be wrong. "She was examined by Ancient Mai, Captain Steiger, and myself."

"Steiger voted in my favour, Harry. He wasn't too keen on executing me."

Ana, to her credit, did not look away. Her voice, too, got very quiet. "I voted as I felt I must. I feel no shame for it. Nor will I."

"You voted to kill me."

"You're dangerous. We both know that. And your control had not improved. You had no one to be responsible for you."

Now, Molly's voice jumped, and the temperature dropped accordingly, like all the heat in the room was suddenly in her words. "Harry had come back!"

"They wouldn't let him take you back."

"Why not? No one ever explained that to me!" She took a step forward, and once again every Warden was grasping a weapon pointed in her direction. I was acutely aware that many of their lines of fire were directly through my back. "I was scared, and _thought_ I had a friend watching over me. Then you passed sentence - And I was never told _why_!"

"I told you, you're dangerous!" Ana's temper finally flared, and now she was gripping her sword tightly. "They didn't want you to have a chance, don't you see?" She took a couple of deep breaths, calmed herself.

McCoy stepped forward, looking at Luccio. "The Senior Council wanted her dead, didn't they?" His voice had no inflection, and his lips barely moved. But his eyes were boring into the Captain.

Ana said nothing.

"Merlin or Mai?" he asked.

Ana closed her eyes. "Ancient Mai told me right before the exam. She emphasised what Molly had done before – the neuromancy. She reminded me that Molly had been looking into my mind just a few months ago. Then she said that she – and the whole of the Senior Council – expected me to do my duty."

Her words fell on a very quiet room, full of a lot of very nervous people, and a few angry ones.

I wanted, desperately, to say something snarky, but I couldn't think of anything.

"Not the _whole_ Senior Council, Captain," McCoy said. "This is exactly how they tried to railroad Harry when he was younger. This time, they just waited for an excuse, any excuse, and latched on to it. Her sentence was put off, but never overturned, isn't that right? The day Harry stood up for her, Langtry decided. Then the son of a bitch just waited."

Listens-to-Wind was suddenly at my shoulder. "When you reappeared," he said to me, "I was approached by the Merlin and Ancient Mai together."

I spoke, and discovered my jaw was clenched. "The vote to decide if Molly could be returned to me as my apprentice, or would have to go through her exams?"

"Yes. It was… rushed. And they would not be swayed by my arguments." He shook his head. "It was planned."

I stepped forward, and put a hand on Molly's shoulder, and looked at Luccio. My face wasn't angry. But it sure as hell wasn't happy. She met my eyes for a moment, then looked at my nose. "I would have expected more from you, Captain."

"Harry - "

I turned and stomped up the stairs, into the day-become-night, and left the door to swing shut behind me.

I stood in the chill and seethed, just a little. When the door opened, I didn't turn around. I stared at the unnaturally dark sky, just breathing.

Molly stepped up beside me. "Thanks," she said. "For, you know, keeping me from getting killed in there."

"Why I'm here," I mumbled. "I'm all about preventing disasters and political problems."

She snorted, in a most un-political manner.

"She never said anything. I had no idea. And I'm kind of horrified. I thought I knew her."

The kid put her hand on my arm. "You have to remember, Harry: your whole relationship with her was a lie. A manipulation. You may never have met the real her. So, you can't be too upset that she's changed. She's just becoming who she really is again."

Amazing. Even after everything she'd been through in the last couple months – the last couple minutes – _she_ was trying to comfort _me_.

"I met the real her once. On the day she became the fake her. I put a bullet in her real head."

Molly took her hand back and shrugged. "Well, most couples have a cool story about how they met."

I laughed. "Hey, did you see what happened to Elaine? Or Mouse? Or Murph?"

She took a breath. "Yes. That's why I'm here, actually. After the house collapsed, and the gruffs set off after you, I went back to the wreckage. Elaine showed up, too, Mouse was with her. Karrin… she was just standing there, staring at it."

I knew that feeling.

"It was weird, though," she continued. "She didn't seem really upset. I mean, sad, sure, but not angry. After that, I would have expected her to be angry, or swearing vengeance, or something, but she just shook her head." Molly then shook her own. "I'm not sure, but I think I heard her say, 'Finally.' I don't know why."

I thought maybe I did. Murphy had been agitating to leave Chicago for weeks. Maybe she'd been waiting for a sign to kick her ass into gear. Damn Swords.

God. Damn. Swords.

"Then, she got a phone call."

"What, like in the wreckage?"

"No. On her cell."

My brows scrunched. "With you and Elaine standing right there?" Molly shrugged. I thought of Michael standing next to the radio yesterday, and shrugged, too. "Who called?"

"Billy. He said he hadn't been able to reach anyone else – cells are working, but landlines aren't – but there was 'a situation' at the University, lots of people involved. Students, mostly. Karrin told me to come get you. She and Elaine headed for the dorms, I guess because Elaine's been living there."

"Crap."

"So, yeah, we should probably head that way. I just hope the place isn't on fire. We've got enough of those."

Something clicked, in my mind. Loudly.

…_I don't want to be trapped here, like last time… You know what's weird? I heard all those fires are still burning… It will burn until the last timber is consumed… I have always found it easier to start a fire than to end one…_

Hell's bells. No, please, no.

_Lash, please tell me I'm not thinking what I think I'm thinking._

_I remember where you saw the fires, Harry. I can estimate others. I fear you may be correct. You will have to confirm with Molly._

My jaw fell open, and I turned to Molly. "Do you remember where you saw the fires?"

She looked a little confused. "Uh, yes? Some of them. Why?"

I pulled her back through the door by the shoulder, and ignored the sudden lull in conversation that accompanied our arrival. I went straight to the man himself. "Mac, I need a map of Chicago."

His eyes squinted a bit at me, but he turned and disappeared into the small office behind the bar.

"Dresden?" Carlos. "You've got that slightly crazy look in your eye, my friend."

Mac returned, an older folding paper map of the greater Chicago area in hand. He tossed it to me. "Can I borrow a pencil?" He pulled one out of his apron and handed it to me, then calmly went back to handing out refreshments.

I opened the map up and folded it in that way that everyone does, trying to show only as much of the city as I needed. I placed it in the middle of a roughly central table, Molly standing across from me. McCoy and Ramirez approached the two other sides of the map. "Molly, where did you see the fires you were talking about?" I handed her the pencil.

She was still confused, but she leaned down, and started making some dashes. Not dots, but dashes. Long fires. They were in a roughly straight line, cutting through town on the west end. "There. Oh, there was another one over here," she added, and dashed in a short line in the south.

I took the pencil back, and mentally said, _Alright. Guide me_.

Lash gave me a few mental images, street names, distance estimates, and a few projections of what she thought the fires had spread to in the intervening time. The list of information was impressive, but it blocked some of my vision. I felt like I was looking through the eyes of the Terminator. But I starting drawing.

Others gathered around as I scribbled, including Injun' Joe to my right, watching the shape take form on the map. I could feel the apprehension growing among those who could see it. My own heart was starting to beat harder.

I stood up, my vision clearing, and took in what I already knew was there.

It was a star. A traditional, five-pointed, criss-crossed star, forming a pentagon in the centre, which covered most of Chicago, a chunk of the suburbs, and a large slice of the waterfront. Oh, there were a few gaps, here and there, and two of the points of the star would have to be out in Lake Michigan, but the shape was undeniable. If there had been a circle around the star, it would have been a huge pentagram. As it was…

"It's not contained," McCoy breathed.

Ana squeezed in between my grandfather and myself. "How is this even possible?"

"Do you really need to ask?" I said. "Think of Ivy."

"Ivy?" Molly's eyes snapped to me. "What do you mean?"

"A year ago. The Denarians captured the Archive, but to trap her, they had to cut her off from her magic, and any outside help."

Understanding spread across her face. "The containment spell. The huge one, at the aquarium."

I nodded.

"But, Harry… that barrier was pure Hellfire. They could only maintain it for a few minutes. These fires have been growing for _over a day_."

"I know. They'd need a lot of Hellfire."

Carlos pointed at the map. "Who has _that_ much Hellfire?"

_Oh, dear_, I heard Lash say. I looked at McCoy. He looked back, and his fear was plain for all to see. "There's only one Fallen Angel I know of with that much power," I said. "Only one I've _ever_ known of."

Carlos' eyes widened. "Holy shit. Uh, excuse me, Sir," he said to Listens-to-Wind beside him.

The old healer just shook his head. "That's all right, Warden, under the circumstances."

"Doesn't there have to be a circle?" Molly asked.

"Not in this case, Invisible Woman. A circle around the points would impose order – power _under_ control. Creation." I drew an imaginary circle with my finger on the map. "A circle within the points would mean anarchy – power _beyond_ control. Destruction. No circle at all…" I shrugged. "Chaos. Power _without_ control. Anything could happen."

"One thing is for certain," Ana said. "When the lines close, anyone within will be physically trapped. Even escape to the Nevernever will be cut off."

"Exactly," I said. "They're sealing us in. Where's the biggest gap?"

"Right here," she said, and pointed.

"Harry," Molly said, "that's near St. Mary's. It's over the route they've been evacuating through."

"The church was the largest refuge they found. We've got to get those people out of here before the lines seal up."

"How long you figure, Hoss?" McCoy asked.

_Lash? Estimate?_

_At the rate it has grown since the quake, I would say ten hours._ She paused. _Perhaps less._

_Awesome_.

I tapped my temple. "The voices tell me ten hours." McCoy was one of only a few people who would have understood, and he gave me a knowing nod.

"Evacuation has to be underway by now," Molly said. "Doesn't it?"

"There were hundreds of people still left in the church," I reminded her. "More might have wandered in."

"Harry, the Alphas. Karrin and Elaine, they're all still at the university."

_Dammit!_ "Oh, crap, it slipped my mind." I thought of the weather, the condition of the roads, and the time constraints. The math was pretty simple. "We don't have time to go for both." I peered down at the image on the map. I hadn't been near the University of Chicago in the last two days, but by Lash's estimates… "We might still be able to get them out over there. And wolves move faster than humans, anyway."

"What are you saying, Hoss?" McCoy asked.

"We need to split up."

"We're already split, chopped in half."

"I know, but look. I haven't had a chance to explain yet, but it's not just Mavra we're dealing with here. Cowl's in town."

There was a murmur among the Wardens.

"Schneider is here?" Luccio asked, her voice icier than Molly's had been.

"Yes. And so is his apprentice. His daughter, actually. A few of their friends, too," I said, glancing at McCoy, who stiffened. "And with this darkness… none of the vanilla mortals in town are going to stand a chance against any of them."

"And that church and the university are the largest groups of survivors left in Chicago?"

"That I know of, yeah."

Luccio turned to Injun' Joe. "He's right, we should split up. Half to the church, half to the school, evacuate all we can. Even use the Nevernever if necessary."

"I wouldn't expect you to suggest something so blatant, Captain," the old man said, "but I agree. Whatever a creature like a Black Court vampire has in mind for human life, it needs to be stopped. And that begins by getting human life out of the way."

People began moving, injured began to stand, some with help. I spoke to McCoy. "I'm going to the university. Half the people I know are there. And St. Mary's is safer right now." There was no conscious choice, really.

He nodded. "I know where the church is. Stay in touch." He patted his pocket, his calling stone whispering to me. He headed for the door.

Listens-to-Wind said, "Should I take it that the injured at the church have already been evacuated?"

"Along with the children," I answered.

"Then I will accompany you. I may do more good that way."

"Wardens!" Luccio shouted. She switched to Latin. "Blue Team will go with Wizard McCoy and myself. Red Team with Wizard Listens-to-Wind and Warden Dresden. Be sharp, be safe, and do your duty." To me, in English, she said, "Good luck, Harry. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry." She glanced at Molly. "About everything."

I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, she turned and headed for the door. About half of the Wardens began to follow her, including Chandler, who touched the brim of his hat before turning. One of his eyes was beginning to close over, his face still blistered and looking worse than before. But not a word of complaint.

Carlos and Molly stayed where they were.

"Well, this is a dream come true," I said.

"What?" Molly asked.

"Red Team. I always wanted to be Red Leader. You can be Red 5."

"Red Leader was shot down. Red 5 was Luke Skywalker."

"Big shoes to fill," I agreed. "Now, excuse me for a moment, I have an idea." I turned to the remainder of the Wardens and the Senior Council member. _Once more_, I said to Lash, _with feeling_. "All right," my guided Latin tongue told them, "our destination is about eight miles due south-east. We'll be collecting civilians – non-magic users – so we're going to commandeer some transport."

"What transport?," Carlos asked.

I smiled. "There's a bus depot about two blocks over. And I don't mean city buses – charters. The damage to the roads this far from downtown is minimal; we'll have a clear shot straight down to the school. Even if there's snow, we can melt it."

He nodded, a smile growing. "And those seats are cushy. But, do you know how to drive a bus?"

I shrugged. "How hard can it be?"

Pretty fucking hard, it turned out.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Just a note for any Dresden fans who are looking for a good conversation about our favourite wizard and haven't been there already: check out darklordpotter dot net. The focus is on Harry Potter, but it's also got the second-largest group of Dresden fans on the 'net after Jim's own site. And a lot more swearing, too.**

Getting to the bus depot wasn't hard. In fact, it was remarkably easy going. The place was empty, windows were shattered, and the lights were out. Calling up light is one of the first things any wizard learns, though, so darkness wasn't a problem. Finding the keys to the big buses wasn't a problem, either – they were hanging on a nicely organised board in a manager's office, each along with their last parking spot noted on a little tag.

The problem was the damn doors. All the buses were inside the depot, none were waiting in those convenient outdoor spots where folks usually get aboard and head off. With 17 people lifting, the lack of power wasn't a hindrance in getting the big door open, but the frames had twisted in the quake. Oh, not a lot. Just enough to make my life difficult.

In the end, Carlos and one of the other Wardens did something, uh, _green_, and the door, and a chunk of the surrounding wall, simply dissolved.

In one of those strange but wonderful twists of fate, it turned out three of our group actually had experience driving buses, albeit much older, less fancy ones. They did a variation of rock-paper-scissors, and two of them took keys: a grey-haired lady from Zanzibar, and a long-haired red-headed man. The one concern they had was that in these conditions, darkness, slippery roads, holes in roads, etc., stopping would be an adventure.

As I knew the roads better, and the Beetle could stop more easily than a bus, I offered to drive my car out front, like a pilot-ship. Molly and I hot-footed back to Mac's while Carlos and everyone else got the buses running. Doing so mostly consisted of having everyone stand really far away while the drivers got the engines running, then boarding and trying to stay away from said engines, crowding into the middle seats.

I was glad I had my own car, even if the back window was missing. At least I'd get my own seat. I got the engine running by thinking calm thoughts and being very assertive with the clutch. Even with the heater going full blast, it was a bit nippy. Molly didn't seem to mind, of course.

I cranked my window down as we pulled up in front of the depot. Carlos was standing at the opening that had until a few minutes ago been a door. "We good to go?" I shouted.

"Lead the way!" he called back. He turned and waved into the darkness, and I heard the big diesels roar. I waited until he had hopped aboard the first bus, then we started down the road.

There were cars lining the sides of the street, which actually helped keep the snow drifts to a minimum. This far from downtown, the damage wasn't extensive, and I'm pretty sure the old depot had taken the brunt of it. There were few broken windows, though still no street lights working. Torn between the need for speed, and the need for caution, I kept it under 25.

And for the next ten minutes, very little happened. So, as is my way, I talked.

"You okay, Molly?"

She took a second before responding. "You mean about earlier? With Luccio?"

"Yeah. I mean, it pissed me off, but - "

"Harry, the last few months for me have been… hard to describe." She turned her head, looking out her window into the gloom. "Mab and Maeve aren't exactly… gentle masters."

Her hands moved to her lap, in a subconsciously defensive action. I found myself silently grinding my teeth, and wanting more than ever to beat a Faerie Queen to death. But I held my tongue. When Molly was ready to talk, I would be here.

Her voice never changed. "I'm a big girl, Harry. I can deal with people who hurt me." She snorted. "People who love me, on the other hand…"

I took a breath and let the anger go. For now. "Yeah, I got the impression from your mom that you only kind-of sorted things out."

She looked down, and a tiny smile tugged at her mouth. She looked very young. Some of her hair came loose, and she brushed a purple lock back over her ear. "There was crying, shouting, hugging. And on some level… they let go. Not completely, I don't think they could do that if they tried, but they knew I was going to do what I had to, no matter what they said. We said the last of it in front of everybody, just before they got on the bus."

I slowed down to manoeuvre around a stalled tow-truck, of all things. "Well, at least they got out of town. You don't have to worry about them."

Her eyes crinkled in thought. "But would I have to worry if they'd stayed? I thought it was part of Dad's retirement package – protection from supernatural evil?"

"Sure," I said. "Though if Chicago is cut off from the outside world, they might eventually starve, or be hurt by regular people in the grip of panic." I patted her leg. "You did good by getting them out, kid."

She nodded absently. "Yeah, I guess so." We were quiet for a minute, during which I led the convoy around a corner. The snow didn't fade away, but the darkness got thicker. It somehow seemed colder, even with the heater blowing full blast. "You're still uncomfortable with this, aren't you?

"Huh?" Damn, I'm sharp.

"The Winter Knight deal."

"Oh, that. Uncomfortable isn't the right word. Unhappy? No. Angry? That's closer. Seriously-fucking-pissed? That might be right. And now knowing that Ana played a part in it… you can mix confused and betrayed in there. And no matter what you say, there's a touch of guilt, too."

"I wouldn't expect anything less. You always feel responsible for things."

"You were my responsibility, Molly."

"I'll say it again; I'm a big girl now. Though it's kind of cool to know you feel that way. It's very… human of you."

She looked away from me again, watching the shadows. I suspected she hadn't felt much like 'human' in the last little while. "Human is as human does," I said.

And that was ten minutes. I shifted uncomfortably at a sudden shiver running down my spine. I put my hand on the heater knob, but realised it was already set at high. It wasn't the cold that had caused my reaction. "Did you feel a chill?" I asked Molly.

"I don't really feel the cold anymore," she said, quietly. "Besides, the window's – no, wait, I felt something!"

I slid us to a stop, killed the noisy heater, and grabbed my blasting rod from beside my seat. Behind us, I heard the buses' brakes squealing hard, and they stopped moving, about 40 yards back. Something was out there, in the shadows. Something quiet and dangerous. I turned the engine off.

Molly and I exchanged a glance, then opened our doors. I had my shield bracelet charged and ready. We stepped out of the car, our senses stretched and alert. I held my left hand out, shield ready to spring into existence, and my right arm back, fire just as ready. _Lash? See anything I'm missing?_

_Not yet._

_Great. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not_.

Half a block behind us, I knew the Wardens were getting ready. I heard a couple of pneumatic doors open, and some feet hitting the ground.

I got another chill. This time, I recognised it. "Vampires," I whispered, and took a step back to the Beetle.

"Harry?" Carlos' voice called. "What is it?"

"Get back in the bus!" I said. "It's vampires; we're ploughing through!"

I saw him nod and turn back to the door; I turned back to the Beetle. Naturally, that's when they attacked.

I felt it a split second before the impact, a cold, heavy ball in my gut, a deep feeling of _wrong_ in my most private of areas, and managed to spin and pull up a thin shield, purely on instinct. The animated corpse hit me like a small car instead of a freight train, but I still went flying, left arm momentarily numb.

I caught only the briefest of looks at its face, but the paleness, the rheumy eyes, and the massive chunk missing from the neck told me all I needed to know. Then I was on my back, looking at the overcast sky, before bouncing off the rear of the Beetle and rolling onto the street.

I managed to hold onto my blasting rod by two fingers, and snapped it up at the vampire, wheezing out a weak "_Fuego!_"

Fortunately, evocation magic, the quick and dirty stuff, is about intent, not pronunciation. If I'd been working thaumaturgy, the slow, ritual-like stuff I'm better at, I might have been in trouble, but a burst of flame jumped out of the charmed wood like a flame-thrower tossing napalm.

Unfortunately, Black Court vampires are freaking fast. The remains of what had been a cashier at MacDonald's until a day or two ago launched herself out of the way and disappeared back into the darkness. The fire hit the side of a frosty brick building and dissipated.

Before I could gain my feet, there was an inhuman screech from behind me. I rolled over to see Molly holding another vampire at bay by simple strength, her hands gripping its wrists, the former fireman's jaws snapping at her throat.

I got my feet and brought my rod up again, opening my mouth to tell her to duck. Then, as I watched, ice began to grow over the vampire's arms, spreading out from her hands in a thick sheet. The vamp noticed, his head snapping back and forth. The ice quickly grew over his hands, locking the claws safely away. Then it screamed again and started pulling away from her.

Almost faster than I could follow, she dropped his arms, braced herself against the Beetle, and kicked, hard. The vamp flew through the air like an extra in The Matrix, all four limbs trailing behind his body. When he hit the ground, his arms snapped down, and his hands shattered, blowing apart with the ice. He writhed, he howled in pain, then he flipped over and ran, vanishing up an alley, cradling his stumps.

"Wow," I said.

Molly was breathing hard. "Didn't know I could do that," she said.

I looked back in the direction of the one who had jumped me. Until just a little while ago, she'd been a survivor. Someone who had lived through a massive devastation in her town – _my_ town! – until she'd been bitten by a monster. And now, she was a monster herself. Goddamn Mavra.

"Harry!" Carlos shouted.

I snapped my head around. The buses had pretty much emptied out. Ramirez trotted up to us with four other Wardens in tow, swords and staves out. "You okay?"

"For the moment. They both got away. One of them went - " The lead bus rocked to the side with the sound of metal dragging on metal.

"That way?" he asked.

"Yeah." We all broke into a run as the other Wardens began to react, swarming around the bus. In the ten seconds it took to cover the distance, I saw several bursts of flame, felt the wind react to a call, and heard too many screams and grunts for comfort.

_Why did I stop driving? Dammit, what the hell was I thinking?_

We headed straight for the largest group, on the driver side of the lead bus. I pulled up short as a Warden let out a victorious shout, and lifted his sword over his head. It was wet with black fluid. At his feet, through the legs of three or four of his comrades, I saw a smoking stain that had been a body.

I worked my way into the crowd, and saw three Wardens on the ground. One of them, a large black man, got himself to his feet. I helped a woman – a girl, really, she couldn't have been more than 20 – up. The third person, a stout fellow who looked like a Viking with his long hair and pale face, lay face down and didn't move.

The guy who'd killed the vampire dropped to his knees, and started talking in a harsh but elegant language with his friend. The guy on the ground responded weakly in the same tongue, probably Swedish. He helped the Warden roll over a bit, and I knew the poor bastard was done for. Most of his abdomen stayed on the ground, and few of us could keep looking.

I didn't let myself look away. _Why did I stop? Why? Stupid!_

After a second, the two Wardens shared a weak laugh. Another second, and there was only one Warden left.

I made a fist tight enough that I heard my knuckles pop. I gave everyone a three-count of silence, then said, "We have to get going. The others will be back any second."

Which, of course, was when they came back. Three vampires, including the one who had blind-sided me a minute ago, exploded out of the shadows, launching themselves at us.

Now, here's the thing about wizards; taken by surprise, we're basically human beings. Nothing too special. We can be shocked, stunned, or even killed. But, give us a warning or a little prep time, and we can call the powers of the Gods to our service. So, it's best not to attack us when we're ready for you. Especially not when there's a dozen or so of us who are ready for you and we're pissed that you just killed one of us.

All three vamps hit our shields. One of them bounced off a few shields like mine, flying back into the night; the one who jumped me disintegrated in a green sphere that Carlos used; and the last just stopped dead in midair. He gave us an angry scream, then six different wizards, possibly including myself, threw fire at his face. He was reduced to ash in less time than it took to blink.

Looking back on it, we probably should have asked him where his boss was, or at least how many of them there were, but sue me; we were angry.

Another roar sounded from the other side of the buses. "Listens-to-Wind," I mumbled. All of us started running. The buses had stopped so closely together we couldn't get between them. As I rounded the front of the lead bus, The headlights almost blinded me. A step past them, and I saw Joseph standing near the sidewalk.

I skidded to a stop. There were two vampires, one behind him and one in front, running full tilt at him, jaws open, claws flailing. They would be on him in less than a second. I raised my blasting rod, but didn't cast a spell; I couldn't shoot the vamps without hitting Injun' Joe. Everyone else had the same problem.

Not that it mattered. At the last possible moment, the old man simply vanished. In his place, and about three feet higher in the air, was an eagle, wings lazily treading air. The two vamps smashed into each other and rebounded, knocked senseless. I shook my head. It was like watching weirdest-ever episode of The Three Stooges.

The eagle turned back into an earth-bound wizard, who looked with disdain and pity on the vamps, who had just gone sprawling. "Nature weeps for you," he muttered. Then he pointed his hands, and fire engulfed them both, consuming them almost instantly.

"Whoa," Molly said from beside me.

"Yeah. That's why he's on the Senior Counsel, and we're not." To everyone else, I shouted, "Back in the buses! We don't stop again! It's a straight shot downthis road to the school!"

Everyone moved, including Listens-to-Wind. Molly and I ran for the Beetle. Another inhuman screech sounded not far away, and a little above us. I glanced up.

There were half a dozen of them, all standing on the second- and third-storey roofs of the surrounding buildings, three to a side. "Hell's bells, run, Molly!"

Now, because of how fast and strong they are, running from Black Court vampires is really only useful in two possible situations: One, you're trying to get to direct sunlight, which the younger ones can't stand; or two, you're trying to get a better angle to hit them with a weapon.

I didn't have any sunlight on me, but if they lined up right, I could probably fry three of them at once. I heard shouts and the roar of unhappy engines and felt magic fly behind me. I focussed on getting to my poor car, watching the vamps jump from the rooftops out of the corners of my eyes. I kept my shield and blasting rod ready. I felt my newly-repaired heart pounding furiously.

Molly and I reached the Beetle at the same moment. I slid to a stop, but she treated ice like it was pavement. One of the vamps, Stumpy, jumped out of the shadows behind her. "Molly!" I cried.

I whipped my blasting rod into position as she ducked, turning. I shouted "_Fuego_!" at the same moment she shouted "_Actis_!"

The gout of flame and stream of ice combined into a messy _'Arctiuego'_ spell. A wall of super-heated steam waited for the vamp as he jumped, and… well, I won't go into too much detail, but his flesh basically boiled off.

The corpse, and it was just a corpse again, landed on the Beetle, denting the roof and cracking the windshield, before rolling off into the street.

We both stared. "Well," Molly said, "that was cool."

"I think it was hot stuff, myself," I said, and yanked the driver's door open. I got in, and bumped my head on the suddenly-compacted roof. My poor car.

"That was awful," she said, joining me.

"You're going to complain about my sense of humour now?" I cranked the Beetle over and gunned the engine. The rearview was useless, now, reflecting a V-shaped chunk of car ceiling. I cranked my window down and poked my head out. Molly did the same. In the door-mounted mirror, I saw the buses already moving, windows down and wizards throwing magic out of them. Everything under control, relatively speaking.

Then there was a horrible scream of metal bending, and the rear bus rocked over on two wheels. I snapped my head around. The bus corrected, but didn't sound happy about it. It probably wasn't helped by the three vampires clinging to it.

"Oh, seriously? If it's not one thing, it's three." I thought fast for a moment, came up with something stupid, and decided to do it, anyway.

I cranked the wheel around and worked the pedals, swinging the Blue Beetle into a 180 degree turn, then shot back up the road, the little engine roaring like a lion cub trying to make itself heard among the pride. "Molly, you ready for some drive-by wizarding?"

"Is that even a real thing?"

"It is now!"

The invisible woman pulled herself up and half-through her window, sitting on the edge of her door. As we slipped past the bus, fire began to fly over the car, almost singeing my hair. The blast wasn't as tight as mine would've been, but Molly didn't have a fire-focus, and her proficiencies were obviously at the opposite end of the spectrum, now. It had the desired effect, though; all three vampires let go of the bus and fell to the ground.

I turned the Beetle around again, and the engine stuttered. We bounced forward, once, twice… then my old friend stalled. "Oh, no. That's not good."

Two of the vamps turned and dashed off after the busses. One of them, a particularly nasty-looking, ichor-stained beastie, stayed. I started feverishly trying to get the engine started again.

"Uh, Harry? Now what?" Molly asked.

Instead of answering, I growled at the steering column. "Come on, come on!"

Molly took it on herself to hop back up on the door and throw some flame. Good intentions, but the vamp was too far away, and dodged easily. I did _not_ want to be stuck here with this thing. We had to get moving. We _had_ to. Billy, Murphy, Elaine, all the Alphas, were waiting for me.

"Molly, no magic!"

She stopped flinging fire, though she didn't slide back inside.

I kept turning the key, and kept getting a pathetic, 'yuh, yuh, yuh' sound out of the starter. The vampire started forward, a few steps at a time. Great. This one was smarter than the last few, or at least more in control of itself.

"Come on, old buddy, come on…" I tried one last time, deciding that if it didn't catch, I'd get out and do some damage with my bare -

The engine caught. The vampire looked just as surprised as I probably did. Then I was smiling. I jammed the gas down, popped the clutch… and didn't move an inch forward. We were on ice.

My smile vanished, and the vamp grew one. It was rather horrible to look at. I cranked the wheel back and forth, getting the slightest sideways movement out of the rear end. Molly slid back inside. "Uh, Harry? Want to try the magic steam thing again?"

The vamp got within two feet of the Beetle and took a swing, sending one of the head lights flying off into oblivion. Oh, my poor car. "Asshole," I said quietly.

I hadn't taken my foot off the gas. With no warning, the tires suddenly caught pavement, and we shot forward. The vamp, taken by surprise, was caught by the fender and did a beautiful faceplant into what remained of the windshield, spiderwebbing it and crushing the hood. _Oh, you asshole!_

The vamp lifted his head, growled at us, then drew back an arm and punched the windshield to bits. Glass exploded inward, causing me to flinch and swerve.

_You _fucking_ asshole…_

I was pissed, as you might have gathered.

"Molly, seatbelt!" I pulled mine on. The vamp grabbed the forward edge of the Beetle's roof, and pulled upwards, peeling it back like a fruit cup lid, I guess to get a better grabbing angle on Molly and me. His smile got even bigger and more grotesque.

"What are you smiling about?" I asked, and steered for a large, tent-shaped snowbank. I drew in my will, and as the car hit the bank at an angle, tilting up, I thought about the underside of the car and shouted, "_Ventas servitas_!"

The Beetle caught some wicked air. Seriously, there's no other way to describe it. We launched, car, wizards and vampire, into the air and over a small parking lot. I felt like I was in the world's worst roller coaster. Or, maybe, the best.

We came down in said parking lot, in a spot already occupied by a parked van. We hit the side of that van at about 40 miles an hour, and about four feet off the ground. The vamp was splattered against the sliding door. After impact, we rebounded about a foot and smashed to the ground.

The Blue Beetle's last act was to crush a vampire up against that van… and simultaneously crack several of my ribs, I'm sure of it.

I blacked out. Just for a minute, I think, but by then Molly, who was obviously much tougher than me, now, had managed to disentangle herself from the mess. She staggered around the wreck and got my door half-open by yanking on it. She managed to get my seatbelt off and help me out of the seat, which I could not do myself; I simply had no leverage, and couldn't even take a deep breath.

I unfolded with her help, one arm over her shoulders. I was sore, but nothing felt broken. My head was a little rattled, but what else was new? We turned to look at the car. Or, rather, what was left of it. "Oh, Harry," Molly said. "This sucks."

The front end was crumpled flat, the windows were all gone, the seats were twisted, many different fluids were leaking, the dent in the roof had become a fold, the frame was twisted, the wheels were all pointing in different directions…

I leaned forward, put a hand on the frame, just above the door. "Sorry, old friend. You're not coming back from this one." I looked at the smeared remains of the vampire. "And thanks," I muttered. I reached back in and pulled out my staff and rod. "Let's go. I think we're hot-footing it to the school."

Molly led me over the snow bank and back onto the street. I was cold. Wet. Possibly concussed. Carless. I had the start of a bitch of a headache. But there was still a job to do.

"Are you going to be okay?" Molly asked,

"Yes," I said, then tripped over a rut in the snow.

She put a hand out to steady me. We shared a look, me a sheepish one, she a disapproving one her mother would have been proud of, then turned forward again,

There was a vampire in the intersection ahead. I sighed. "Another conveniently placed vampire? What the fuck is this, Twilight?"

She was small, kind of round, and looked like she'd only been dead a few hours. She opened her mouth. A voice came out of it. A voice I recognised.

"Wizard," it said.

"Mavra? Speaking through the hired help? That's Mab's trick, you know."

"What the Winter Queen does is no longer a concern for us." I felt Molly tense beside me.

"Us?"

"The Circle, of course. And in a few hours' time, there will be no outside concerns at all."

"Why, because you're cutting us off?"

"You were warned, wizard. And you did not get your people to flee. Any now left here belong to us."

As you might imagine, that got my back up. "The hell they do." I pointed my blasting rod right at the vamp's face. "I'm declaring open season on you and all your super-villain friends!"

"Foolish mortal. _You_ are now the wild game. And you are already hunted. Much like your friends, the wolves."

"What did you say? Hey, answer me!"

Her mouth closed, then broke into a grin. Mavra had let go of the 'child.' She looked like she was going to spring at us.

"Great. And us fresh out of cars." I shook my left wrist, getting my shield ready. "Okay, Invisible Woman, flank her. Let's spread out and – what is that?" I cut myself off when I heard a strange roaring noise, like an engine. But the busses were long gone. The vamp was looking around, too.

An enormous white SUV exploded into the intersection from the cross-street, blowing through a snow bank. The vamp tried to move, but slipped. The huge truck slammed into her.

The vamp went skidding down the road. Molly and I watched her go, then looked back at the truck. On its far side, the driver's door open, and the commander of the street-legal tank stood up, his head emerging over the roof. "Need a lift?" my brother asked.

I smiled like an idiot, then laughed. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry. Traffic. Get in."

He ducked back down and Molly and I started toward the truck. "Shotgun!" Molly said.

The passenger side window rolled down, and we both slid to a stop.

"Oh, Harry, Molly. It's so good to see you," Lara Raith said. And she licked her lips as she did, too.

I glanced at Molly. "All yours."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Well, so much for that New Year's Resolution. Real life has been taking its toll, lately, so no more promises on the speed of updates... Though once this story is done, I think I need a vacation.**

I sat in the back seat with Molly; she had retrieved my bag of wizardly implements and held it on the seat while I rummaged through. She sat behind Lara. With the way the secret Queen of the White Court kept her eyes on me, I would have liked to switch places with her.

"How did you find us?" I asked.

Thomas reached out and poked something hanging on the rearview mirror. A pentacle amulet. It was made of silver, and it was defying gravity by leaning towards me. More specifically, it was leaning towards the matching amulet I wore around my neck. They were a matching pair from our mother, his a birthday present, mine an inheritance. "All vampires have a little innate talent, you know. I'm not going to go slinging fire around, or calling the elements to do my bidding, but I can find you whenever I want to."

As an odd counterpoint to this, the sky was brightening. And the snow was vanishing. This time, I noticed that. See, I can learn.

"You actually managed a tracking spell. Amazing."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Really?"

I saw Lara give him a look. "Well," he said, smoothly, "might be the first time it _worked_. Big sister insisted on coming along."

"May I ask why?"

Lara folded her hands together and smirked at me. "I was bored," she said.

I filled the vampires in on my day so far, tactfully leaving out Ivy's visit, as I dug through my bag, pulling items out occasionally. A glance at the dashboard clock told me it was a little before four. Time flies when you're fleeing for your life, I guess.

Lara shook her head when I was done. "You don't do anything halfway, do you, Harry?"

"Where would the fun in that be?" I managed to pull out a small cloth pouch and upturned it on my palm. Eight braided metal rings fell out, and I went about putting them on my fingers. "Are we close to the school?"

"Just up ahead," Thomas said. "Oh, looks like there's a lightshow."

Molly and I leaned forward to get a glimpse.

The buildings my friends lived in were under siege, by some of my favourite creatures. "Stars and stones, these guys _again_?"

There were about 30 sylphs, just as many hobgoblins, and the gruffs I'd dodged earlier, though thankfully, I didn't see Tiny. Or Fix, for that matter.

Part of the building was on fire, as were the two behind it. People were running scared, mainly into an inner courtyard between the four apartment buildings. The nearby university was dark, and there seemed to be a steady stream of people doing impressions of decapitated chickens.

The Fae weren't going in for any killing blows, though; that was probably because of the wizards and wolves.

Thanks to Thomas' driving skills, the buses had only arrived about two minutes ahead of us; the Wardens were barely engaged with the Fae, though they were already flinging spells around.

The Alphas, though… this was their home territory. I could only see three of the big wolves, claws and jaws flashing. But they were holding off half a dozen creatures each, and showing no strain.

The four of us rappelled out of the oversized truck even as Thomas was still screeching to a stop, and Molly and I hit the ground running. I had a staff in one hand, rod in the other; she had a sword and wand ready to go. I glanced up. "There are still people in those apartments!" I shouted.

"On it!" Thomas said. As I watched, he disappeared into the crowd, Lara rolling her eyes before following him.

I shook out my shield bracelet and was shouting wind spells at sylphs before I even got to Carlos, who was flinging hobgoblins aside by making the ground under them shrug. He glanced over his shoulder. "About time!" His smile told me he was relieved, though.

"Sorry; Traffic. Duck!" He did, without even looking around. I triggered a mental tripwire, connected from my mind to one of the rings on my right hand. The gruff that had been about to land on Carlos went flying back, smacked by unseen kinetic force, stored in the ring, absorbed a little at a time whenever I moved my arm. The gruff landed on its cloven feet. The goat-man was wearing a coat not unlike mine – which he whipped open, revealing a small machine gun, wrapped in leather strips. "Ah, crap."

Carlos stood and willed his protective Green Ball of Acidic Death (the G-bad, my wildly inappropriate sub-conscious labelled it) into existence. The bullets started hammering at us, but slowed as though they'd been trapped in a John Woo movie, then disintegrated. A moment later, a large, furry being slammed into the gruff from behind, flattening it.

"Will!" I shouted. Carlos dropped his shield, and the wolf leapt towards us, landing on two human feet. Will Borden, my engineer/werewolf buddy, stood naked before me.

And the bastard made it work.

"Good to see you, Harry!" His expression was serious, but excited. Even if it was in his home, this was more action than he'd seen in a while.

Behind me, Carlos and Molly nodded to each other.

"Will, have you seen Murphy and Elaine?"

We all flinched as a bolt of lightning struck nearby, possibly in the courtyard, throwing out a deafening roar of thunder. "Whoa!" Carlos put a hand to his ear.

"Nevermind, that was probably Elaine," I said. "Molly, go find her and Mouse. Let's try a little flanking manoeuvre."

"Harry?" Will said.

"I'm not supposed to leave your side, Harry."

"Molly, I don't think - "

Her eyes snapped to a point just over my shoulder, her wand came up, and a thin beam of light jumped out of it. She snapped her arm overhead in an arc, then down. The light was wrapped around the ankle of a sylph, and the naked, winged creature slammed into the asphalt before dissipating into air. "Sorry, what?"

"Okay, new plan," I said. "Molly and I are going to find Elaine and Murphy together. You good here?"

"Uh, Harry?" Will said.

"Elaine?" Carlos asked. "That tall _chica_ from LA you've been seeing? She's not strong enough to pull lightning down."

Whoops. Elaine had fudged her power-level tests when Carlos had come calling a couple years ago. She had no desire to end up getting drafted as a Warden… unlike certain other incredibly stupid professional wizards.

To Carlos, I said, "I know. I tried to show her one thing, and well…" I jerked my head at Molly. "You know how that turns out."

I could almost feel Molly rolling her eyes at me.

Carlos looked uncomfortable, nodded, then slowly said, "Right."

"Later!" I turned and started running, Molly at my side.

"Harry!" Will shouted.

I slid to a stop, turned, threw a blast of force at a hobgoblin who came flying out a third-storey window, and asked, "What?"

"Murphy isn't here."

"What?"

"Elaine and Mouse showed up an hour ago, but Murphy wasn't with them. She said they got separated."

"How? What the hell happened?"

"I don't know. Before she could explain, all this happened!" He gestured at the burning buildings.

We passed three Wardens tossing fae around, then rounded a corner and came face-to-face with half a dozen hobgoblins running for their lives. Five of them looked like Wile E. Coyote about 5 seconds after he picks up an undetonated explosive. We pushed against the wall of the tenement, letting them pass.

The bricks were hot. I looked up at the spreading flames, licking at my head from a third-storey window. Will, his wife Georgia, Elaine and Andi, her werewolf roommate, were all about to become homeless, the same way I had.

I shook my head, but ignored the fire. I didn't have time to worry about the building itself now; I had to make sure the people were out. I turned to the courtyard/parking lot area, and started jogging, Molly at my side. As I came around the corner of the building, I saw about three hundred people clustered together, huddling between cars and pick-ups, surrounded by Wardens and wolves.

The fae seemed to have all fled, and some of the wizards were now calling water out of the air to douse flames. As I watched, the front door of the building to the left cracked and fell of its hinges. Thomas burst out, smoke billowing around him… and a small form, wrapping a blanket, held to his chest.

From the building to the right, Lara repeated Thomas' manoeuvre, but with two adults sluing over her shoulders. Apparently, Big Sister was well fed today.

Thomas was breathing heavily as I approached. "She's such a show-off," he gasped."

"Yeah, must be hard, having an older sibling who's always doing those super-human feats, making you look bad."

He looked up at me. "Go sit on a cactus."

A woman ran forward from the crowd. "Danny? Is – is that - ?"

Thomas stood, and held the little boy out to his mother.

"Oh, thank God!" she cried, and wrapped herself around the boy, who looked scared but otherwise fine. He was breathing better than Thomas. "And thank you," she added.

Thomas had his eyes closed, and was getting his breathing under control. "No problem," he said, though the strained tone of his voice said the opposite. His demon was hungry again.

"You okay?" I asked. "Need to take it easy for a second?"

He shook his head and looked at me. His eyes were flecked with silver. "I'll be fine. Just need to sit down."

I nodded.

Mouse found me a moment later. My ribs were still sore from the car crash, so when his enormous furry head smacked me in the chest, I groaned.

Mouse almost never barks, and rarely makes noise, but he huffed at me, loud. His eyes locked on mine. His tail whipped back and forth.

And don't ask me how, but his expression said, "Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick!"

I put a hand on his head. Then I thought, screw it, and leaned down to hug him around the neck. "Missed you, too, buddy. Glad you're okay."

He sighed.

I pulled back, and he licked my face, once. "Alright, enough of that. Where's Elaine?"

He turned his head and huffed in at a corner of the square, out at the far corner.

"And what happened to Murphy?"

He rolled his eyes (which involved rolling his whole head) and bumped against me again.

"Oh."

"Oh?" Molly asked. "You understood that?"

"What did he just say?" Thomas asked.

"Something along the lines of, 'she did what you did, Stupid.'"

We followed Mouse around the crowd, dodging gouts of water and flame and smoke. I heard a few English-speaking Wardens asking the crowd if anyone knew how to drive a bus.

Elaine stepped away from a wall, and out of a minor veil, as we reached the corner between the farthest buildings. She threw herself into a tight hug with me.

"Stars above, Harry, I was scared sick!"

I pulled back and gave her my best Han Solo grin. "Hey, it's me."

She gave me a Princess Leia glare, and all was right with the world… almost.

"Where's Murphy?"

She gave me a strange look, which I couldn't quite interpret – I wasn't sure if it was sympathy, hurt, or exasperation. Beside me, Thomas looked away and scratched his eyebrow. "Last I saw," she said, "leading a dozen fae away from me and Mouse."

"They kept chasing you?" Molly asked. Her voice was hard. She seemed to have developed a pathological hatred of Summer. I chocked it up to her new vocation and I silently hoped that it wouldn't get any more awkward.

She nodded. "For about three blocks. Finally, Karrin just told me to keep running, they needed a wizard here. And she turned around."

I looked over my shoulder at the crowd, and saw none of the now-departed fae. I made a fist. "Were these the same ones?"

"You mean, 'did they get past her'?" She shook her head, slowly. "I don't know, Harry."

I found I was grinding my teeth, and forced myself to stop. "I have to go find her. If she's hurt - "

Lash and Molly spoke at the same time.

_You do not – _

" – have time."

I glanced up at the sky, slowly darkening. "Dammit. Alright. We don't have enough time to go over this right now."

"What's happened?" Elaine asked.

"We're being hemmed in. Chicago's getting closed to out-going traffic, and I don't mean with pylons."

She took a second, but it clicked, and I watched it spread over her face. "The fires."

"Yeah."

"Well, that's just awesome," Thomas said.

I ignored him and turned to the crowd, which was starting to get restless. I also felt rain starting to fall. Most of the smoulderings had turned to smokings – a lot of people had suffered minor damage, and the buildings, for the most part, were saved. I watched the Wardens try to maintain order, but everyone was freaked out. More than a few of them didn't speak English. Quite a few people were getting angry. It would be out of hand in moments.

I sighed. _Enough panic and chaos. Time for a little theatre_. I snapped my staff up to point at the sky, and drew on a little Soulfire.

A huge ball of purest, glowing white energy jumped into the air, hovering about 30 feet up. The crowd gasped and drew back from the firework made of my essence. The Wardens, who had been trained to limit the use of magic in front of the muggles, were appalled. Though I did catch a glimpse of Listens-to-Wind, and he looked more amused than anything.

I couldn't see everyone, but I mostly wished they could see me. _Now if only I could still fly._

_Only on Demonreach, Harry, _Lash whispered_. And only if you wish to suffer another… incident_.

I snorted, then raised my voice. "Alright folks, listen up! You have just seen some unexplainable shit. Well, I'm not here to explain it to you. Suffice to say, Chicago's in a bad way, and we're here to get you out! That earthquake was just the beginning! There are fires, much worse than this, spreading all over the city. Now, we have a couple of buses, but I see a few of you have cars; I suggest you get to them. We're getting out of here, convoy-style!"

One young woman, the one Thomas had handed the boy over to, stepped forward, her son still in her arms, and asked, in a slightly awe-struck voice, "Who are you people?"

I lowered my arm, letting the shining ball remain aloft. I willed it a little lower, to float about ten feet over my head. Then five. I liked to think it gave me a bright, back-lit look. I'm not an angel, but I appreciate appearances.

I took a few steps towards her, making eye contact with her nose. I kept my voice even. "I'm the guy who's telling you how to get to safety. And these are the people who are going to get you there. I know this is a weird time, but if we don't get moving, now, things are going to get a lot worse. Now, do you have a car?"

She shook her head.

"Okay, then. I want you to head out that way," - I gestured back to where the buses were waiting - "and get on a bus. We're getting out of Chicago. It's not safe, right now."

"But, all my things – "

"There's no time. And that goes for everyone else here," I said, raising my voice. "Do not go back in the buildings! There is no fire department coming! There are few roads open, power is down, phones aren't working. The police are occupied – what police there are left in this town. People have been leaving in droves, and we need to copy them! So please, get in your cars, or get on the buses. We're leaving."

As I watched, people started to move, some around the parking lot, some to follow the Wardens to the buses, some wandered in circles, shaking off the rain and shivering. A few were still drifting in from the direction of the school. But no one panicked. I took that as a victory, and willed the soulball to go out.

"Nice," Elaine said from behind me.

"Very theatrical," Molly added.

"But effective," another voice said. I turned to see Lara approaching. She was drenched, and her clothes were sticking to her in delightful and obvious ways, but she seemed perfectly comfortable, not even breathing hard.

"Thanks," I said, voice flat. The rain was starting to pick up, and I shrugged deeper into my duster.

"So, which way are we headed?" Thomas asked.

"South-east," I said. "Right down I-90, I think."

_Lash? We do still have time, right?_

_If I am right, yes. But we must hurry_.

"Let's get back to your car. I'm freezing." As we walked, Thomas in the lead, I watched the remaining people milling about, getting into vehicles. I saw most of the Alphas, now covered either in blankets or easily-removed sweats and shirts, helping the Wardens get the last few stragglers into vehicles. I gave Will a nod, got one back.

I found myself beside Lara, walking behind the others. "So," I asked quietly, "why are you here?"

She didn't look at me. "My brother needed help."

"Why do I doubt that explanation?"

She paused for a moment before answering. "Tell me, Harry; do you see yourself as a guardian of this city? Do you think of it as yours?"

My turn to pause. "Yes," I said at last. "I suppose I do."

"Well," she said, turning her face to me, "so do I." Her eyes were grey, and hard. "Chicago is _mine_, as much as it could be yours. And someone – some_thing_, some organisation – is trying to take it away." Her grey eyes took on a silver tone. "And that will _not_ be allowed to stand."

I felt a chill run up my back. I had seen what Lara could do when angry. In a way, her declaration worried me more than Mavra's; While the Black Court were murderous and destructive, the White Court were master manipulators, and made a habit of getting their enemies to self-destruct.

On the other hand, Mavra had already shown me how manipulative she could be…

"Besides," she added, "if they enslave or kill all the humans, what am I going to eat?"

We reached the double-decker bus Thomas called an SUV, and everyone started climbing in, including Mouse. Thomas got in the driver's seat, Lara took shotgun again, Molly and Mouse ended up in the back.

Carlos ran up to me. "We're just about loaded up. How do you want to do this?"

"Buses first," I said. "If the wall closes up, I want the civilians out. You know where we're headed?"

"I saw the map. Who brings up the rear?"

I put on a Duke-drawl. "Me an' my posse'll ride drogue, pilgrim."

Ramirez grimaced. "That was the worst John Wayne I've ever heard."

I glared at him. He smiled back, and took off for the lead bus, the one with the vampire damage. I hopped in the truck beside Elaine and pulled my door shut.

A moment later, we were on the road. I was scared; scared for the vanillas, scared for my friends.

And frantically scared for Murphy.

Elaine picked up on it, took my hand, squeezing tight. "It'll be alright," she said. "We'll make it."

I nodded back at her, a little surprised she'd missed what I was really worried about, but not wanting to talk about it. I looked out the window, watching the rain paint it with distorting splotches, and tried not to worry.

We made it to the breach in the fires, mostly unscathed. Some fae and a few vampires harried us, but so few compared to earlier, that getting through them seemed easy. The buses were screaming down I-90, headed for escape…

Then the dead rose. I'd almost put Cowl – Schneider, whatever the hell his name was – out of my head. But the bodies – some rotten, some frighteningly fresh – and the ethereal spirits beside them, and the combination of every supernatural movie bad-guy ever, freaked out a lot of people. Hell, it probably freaked out the wizards, too. Cars stopped, swerved, or went careening off in random directions. The buses ploughed forward, driven by determined Wardens, but the cars following them were the problem.

Even as more fires erupted, exploding through concrete and reaching for the sky, people were driving and running for the other side, where the sun still shone properly, and snow was still drifting lazily. A National Guard post had been set up on the highway; it seemed they had guessed where the perimeter would be. However, while the soldiers were shouting encouragement and waving vehicles in, they would not cross that invisible line.

As the hole closed, I found myself out of the big truck, tossing fire and wind and everything else I could bend to my will at beasts out of nightmares. Blades and teeth flashed, tires screeched, and bursts from guns sounded. People screamed. I saved some. Other Wardens saved more, the Alphas were out and growling again, too, protecting their territory.

Some people still didn't make it.

"_Fuego!_" I tossed a burst of fire at a small crowd of animated corpses, sparing no time to think about where the beat-keeper was. I pulled a little girl up off the ground, handed her to a grandfather I wasn't sure was even hers, and pushed them towards the rapidly closing gate of flames.

The buses were through and stopped, and even as I watched, the Wardens came running back in, herding the civilians through and dispatching nasty beasts.

I saw Joseph on the other side, trying to get back, but distracted with helping a man who appeared to have lost an arm…

Carlos came charging back just as a gout of flame exploded behind him, reaching for the sky and spreading to join with the rest of the barrier…

Billy, Georgia, Elaine and Mouse ripped and burned their way through a park-full of dirt-smeared animated corpses, Andi coming out of nowhere to grab a man and his daughter, pushing them towards safety while they could still get there…

There were still _so many_ people…

I have no idea what happened right after that; it was too damn chaotic. I think Carlos got in a car, waved a few other people in, and started driving. Somehow, I ended up back in Thomas' truck, hanging out a door which was now missing, screaming like a madman while Molly held on to me, rain in my face, as I tossed still more fire at things that should have already been dead.

We were at the back of the convoy again, only about a dozen cars long now, heading back for St. Mary's church. Thomas was up front with Lara, and I didn't know where Mouse and Elaine were.

6 vampires came over the barriers as we passed, charging headlong into the conga-line. Thomas veered. I screamed something incoherent, and pointed my blasting rod, conjuring up a wall of fire not unlike the one cutting us off from the rest of the world, and fed with similar fuel. For just a moment, it looked like the car ahead of us would be smashed open like a piñata, and I was afraid that five people were going to die while I watched.

Then the fire caught the lead vamp, and the others paused, watching him die.

I pumped my fist and gave them the finger as we passed.

_We're going to make it,_ I thought. _We're going to - _

_Harry_, I heard Lash speaking, frantically, _something is - !_

Exhaustion, hunger, fear and helplessness washed over me like a tsunami over an atoll. My head sagged, my arms drooped, and all the fight went out of me, snuffed like a zippo when the lid snaps shut.

Then the ground started to shake, and a voice in my mind roared my name.

**Dresden**. It echoed in my brain, and physically hurt, but I couldn't even raise my arms to hold my head. **We are Dresden**.

I had time to realise that the voice belonged to Demonreach, the living island out in Lake Michigan that liked me, before I lost fine motor control, and Molly heaved a little too hard. I hit my head on the edge of the truck's frame, and blacked out.


	11. Chapter 11

I opened my eyes, my head groggy, rain on my face and my feet, strangely, moving. Dammit, I thought I was done with this after Ivy pulled her 'healing hands' trick. Noises assaulted my ears; growls, roars, the unmistakable sound of steel rasping through air.

Voices.

"Harry! Can you walk?"

"Molly?" I blinked. I was standing, which felt like a minor miracle in and of itself. We were moving, her under my left arm, holding me up, her own left arm swinging away with her sword.

She looked at me, and a zombie leapt at her. Without thinking, I lifted my hand and shouted, "_Forzare_!"

The dead woman went flying away, and I suddenly doubled over with a splitting headache. Should have used a force ring. Well, at least I wasn't short of breath and wheezing with chest pains. I was, however, nauseous. Well, a guy can only take so many blows to the head, I guess.

"Thanks," Molly was saying. Then she was pulling me along the street.

"How long - ?"

"Just a minute, I think, but time's getting weird!"

"Weird?"

"I can see the stars, Harry, but it's barely dinner time!"

"You okay?" another voice shouted. Thomas.

I straightened up. A little. He got under my other arm. "What the hell happened?" I asked.

"I ran a corpse down, and the son of a bitch flipped us over!"

"Nevernever?"

"I can't open a Way!" Molly said.

I glanced over my shoulder, squinting as the pain slowly evaporated. Sure enough, Thomas' tank was on its roof. And swarmed. Zombies, hobgoblins, a few Black Court vampires…

"Hell's bells!" I cursed.

"Yeah. Let's keep going, shall we?" My brother was pulling on the neck of my coat.

I pulled my blasting rod out, walking backwards as Thomas guided me, with Molly at my side. The creatures were everywhere, crawling out of alleyways and off rooftops, out of building doors and sewers. I shook out my shield bracelet, the pain behind my eyes finally washing away, replaced by pure adrenaline. My newly-repaired heart was thundering.

"How the hell do we get out of this one?" Thomas asked quietly.

"And why aren't they attacking anymore?" Molly added.

"Oh, don't ask that question, Invisible Woman. You know it'll just - "

I was cut off when they charged. We kept moving, Thomas all but dragging me. I threw up a shield without even thinking about it, and pain went ripping though my brain, back to front. Too many blows to the head?

_Harry_, a voice said. It wasn't Lash, it wasn't Demonreach.

Yup, definitely too many blows to the head.

_It's me, stupid!_

_Elaine?_

_Get down!_

"Down! Now!" I screamed. I made myself dead weight, dragging Thomas down, and grabbed Molly with my free hand, left arm still extended, holding a shield in place. With the pain receding, I gave the energy in the bracelet a gentle nudge, tuning it from physical resistance, to electrical. Then I closed my eyes.

A bolt of lightning struck the ground not far from us. I'm pretty sure the vampires and animated corpses at the centre of the blast were incinerated, and those surrounding them were blown out in all directions as the blast of thunder followed. A powerful electric shock rolled up my arm, numbing me right to the shoulder. In spite of the shield, I was momentarily blinded and deafened. But not fried or blown to bits, so yippee for that.

I blinked my eyes into operation as I was struggling back to my feet. Without being able to hear anything but ringing, I staggered. I felt hands on my shoulders, and a voice calling to me from about a hundred and fifty miles away. Then, clearly, from behind my eyes, _Harry? Are you okay?_

Elaine. _Yeah. Severely handicapped, but, thanks_. As teenagers, Elaine and I had been… well, 'intimate' is a good starting point. We'd mutually crafted a spell that allowed us to 'pass notes' in class, without needing pen or paper. The nature of the spell was different from what Molly had done; ours had been mutual, based on our Names and a feeling of love.

It still worked, but damned if all these voices in my head weren't making it feel a little crowded.

My sight returned, though the colours were off. Molly and Thomas were also blinking, but they were standing. Both seemed to have recovered faster than I had. Beyond them, I saw still more corpses crawling and walking towards us. And behind them, hobgoblins and gruffs peeking around corners.

"Let's keep moving!" I heard myself say from under water. I scooped up my rod and staff, then we turned and ran.

We got about twenty feet before I felt a slight, unnatural chill in my spine. Glancing around, I saw the source: "Vampires. On that roof." I pointed up and to the left, above a large doughnut sign. Four reasonably fresh Black Court vampires were staring down at us.

"I see them," Thomas said, and he sounded almost relaxed to me. The vamps jumped and were moving before I could take another breath.

"And?" I asked.

"And somebody saw them," he said. Four enormous dog shapes exploded out of the shadows behind the vampires, overtook them in an second, and ripped them to shreds mere feet away, then Mouse and half the Alphas joined us in our run.

The other Alphas were waiting at a street corner, as was a pick-up truck, engine running. As we got closer, I saw Lara in the driver's seat. "Let's go, wizard."

Molly hopped in the bed and hauled me up. Thomas went for the passenger seat.

Elaine had one foot in when the last attacker jumped at us.

He came down from above, throwing himself off a 5-storey roof, and managed to land on her ankle. She fell. I heard myself yelling her name. I jumped back out of the truck; if the guy hadn't smashed its own head in on impact, I would have killed him. He couldn't have been a vamp, or we would have sensed him coming; must have been a Renfield.

I ignored the mess as well as I could and kneeled down. "Are you okay?"

She groaned. "It's just my ankle."

Thomas was suddenly there. "Help me," I said.

We pulled her up, handed her to Molly. I turned at a growling sound. I looked at Billy, then at what he was looking at.

The mob behind us had grown, and was now charging. There had to be over 200 zombies, hobgoblins, vampires… I think I saw a few human-shaped creatures with strange-coloured hair and wooden weapons; the Sidhe themselves.

50 feet away and closing.

No time to think of a plan B.

No time to think, really.

I pulled my staff out of the truck bed. "Go!" I told Thomas.

"Not a chance in hell, Harry!"

"Thomas, I'm not asking!" I stepped away and started drawing in power. I was rewarded with pain behind only one of my eyes. I triggered a couple of my force rings, aiming at the ground. I threw up debris and a few sets of legs. "Get them to safety." I lowered my voice, and said, "Please." His eyes, for once, had not a trace of silver; they were completely human.

Above us, Molly tossed a few balls of ice that smashed into some of the closest creatures, slowing them. "Alphas, Mouse, go, now!"

I heard a low growl and glanced at my dog. He looked defiant. And he's more stubborn than I am.

I pointed my staff at him and said, "I'll stun you and make Thomas carry you."

Then I felt two strong arms on my mine, and I was lifted.

"Lara, go!" my brother shouted, and I felt the truck try to get out from under me. "Toss magic from up here, you idiot!" Molly was on my other side, and Mouse and the Alphas were running at pace, flanking us and making it look easy.

I looked at Thomas, who still holding me up. "Jackass. You're always ruining my noble sacrifices!"

"You'd have to be noble for that to work, Harry!"

In response, I pointed my blasting rod behind the truck and shouted, "_Fuego_!" Wonder of wonders, it didn't even hurt.

Thomas pulled a ridiculously large handgun from somewhere I didn't want to think about and started firing. He blew the head off a hobgoblin that was only a few feet away. Its companions trampled the body.

The truck bounced on the rough road, but Lara kept us going straight. The Alphas ran easily kept up, and kept our sides clear, which was nice. Molly and I tossed fire and ice, Elaine threw a lightning bolt or two. Thomas kept firing. In all, it was a pretty spectacular running firefight.

Until the earthquake.

At first, I thought it was just another bump in the road, and the truck shifted, my right side was pushed up. But before it came back down, my left foot was moving up. Then I was rolling forward and twisting, my feet barely touching the bed of the truck.

The truck's nose was tilting up. Thomas' hand was reaching for me. I was falling. He was knocked off balance when the driver's side tire hit the ground again, and his hand missed the hem of my duster by less than an inch.

I saw all of this later, when I asked Lash what the hell had happened. At the time, it took less than two full seconds.

I was falling through the air, watching my friends and family speed away. I hit the ground, hard, and rolled, fast. My staff and rod slid with me. My left arm was numb, my ribs and other limbs hurt like… well, I don't really have a simile, they just hurt a _lot_. I couldn't breathe.

I skidded to a stop after a few seconds, coming to rest on my back. Ahead, the truck screeched to a stop, too. Thomas and Molly were both out and running towards me, about 50 yards away.

I turned my head. The swarm, even much reduced in number, was still coming, determined as ever, and now I could make out Sidhe, vampires, hobgoblins, a pair of gruffs, some brownies… jeez, even the brownies? Those guys used to clean my apartment…

Okay, brain obviously scrambled. I pointed my right arm, the one that was still listening to me, at the nasty bunch and started triggering the rest of my rings. A few of them went down, a few barely noticed.

I still couldn't get my left arm to move, so I reached for my staff with my right. The sound of growling, screaming, shouting, magic and gunfire overwhelmed me. In a moment, I'd be crushed underfoot. A second of pure fear gave me mindlock.

Then I heard Demonreach's voice in my mind again, saying my name, drowning out all the other sounds. This time it wasn't demanding, or tentative, or curious.

It was afraid. For me. **Dresden!**

The ground shook again, then I was weightless. I looked up, and saw Thomas reaching for me. Wait, he should be below me if I'm flying…

I wasn't flying. The ground had opened up directly beneath me. I was falling.

It was like going down the world's worst waterslide; the rubble and stones were the current. I was pulled along on a sharp angle, slowly flattening out. The hole above me vanished with the angle, maybe closing up completely as I was swept away from it.

I didn't have the breath to cry out, or I would have been yelling all the way down.

I hit something resembling level ground feet first and kind of crumpled into a flip, landing on my back in a very undignified way. My staff followed me, and landed on my stomach, driving the breath out of my lungs again and leaving me to curse creatively without saying anything out loud.

I started coughing as soon as I tried to pull in a breath, and had to stuff my face into my own armpit to get clean air. Ironic, no?

Disoriented, hurt, more than a little stunned, and feeling hopelessly out of my depth, I rolled onto my back and looked up at Lash as she blinked into existence. Despite the dark, I saw her perfectly.

"Harry?" she asked tentatively.

"I… feel… terrible," I gasped out.

She tilted her head. "If you can reference _Star Wars_, you should be fine."

I groaned. "You sound like Murphy." I thought for a second. "And Elaine." I thought again. "And Molly." I turned my head. "How's my arm?"

"Not broken. The nerve was pinched, leading to numbness. That should have passed, now."

"Yup. Now it hurts like hell." I wiggled the fingers, and they responded. I made a fist. So far, so good. I blinked a few times, then slowly worked my way into a sitting position, trying to keep my head from spinning. I glanced around. There was almost no light, save for a dim glow around a bend in the cave I was in. I stood, limped my way back over to my entrance by touch, and looked up. I saw nothing at all.

"Not heading out that way," I said, and the echo effect disturbed me. After a fall like that, I should have been in Undertown. A feeling around at the base of what was basically a garbage chute turned up my blasting rod and staff. I looked around in the dark again. I shook out my shield bracelet (which hurt all the way up to my elbow) and closed my eyes. Then I Listened.

All I got was a dull rumbling and chugging, like from an engine, off in the direction of the light source. "Lash, are we alone down here?"

"I believe so."

"Even though I should be getting swarmed with all sorts of nasty things?"

She looked at me. "As above, so below?"

I looked back. "Cute. That was practically a pop culture reference for you. Your jokes are getting better." She smiled and clasped her hands behind her robe. I looked towards the low light. "All right. Let's get some of this pain masked, then get a move on."

Lash had shown me several techniques for masking, dulling, and even ignoring pain over the years. With her help, the various bruises and cuts faded into insignificance. I started walking towards the glow, using my staff and following Lash's projected self to keep from tripping over anything. She only had my eyes to work with, but she paid far more attention to what I saw than I did.

As I moved closer to the light, the engine sound grew louder, and I was able to pick out more details in the surrounding rock. Lash vanished around a bend in the tunnel.

I rounded the corner, and blinked. There was a series of four bare lightbulbs hanging from a steel beam that had been driven into an uneven layer of concrete in the ceiling. It had probably once been the foundation of a building. A thin cord ran in series through the bulbs' sockets and down to a generator, chugging away. On either side of the low cavern, makeshift walls had been erected. There were five of them; three on the right, two on the left. In the space where a third cubicle should have been on the left, there was a well, and a firepit.

I'd stumbled into an underground hovel. Each of the walls had a door, and after calling out, I poked each one open. No one was home, and I felt no tingles of thresholds. No one was living here – at least, no one human. But each of the spaces _felt_ abandoned. No clothes, no possessions. There was a cot in each space, and that was it.

"A refugee camp?" I asked.

Lash appeared again, walking into sight from nowhere. "Transitional housing?" she offered.

"Maybe. We really are in Undertown. But no normal human being could survive down here. Lycanthropes, maybe?"

"Exiled Sidhe?"

"Could be. Hell's bells, it could be anyone. But they're gone now." I shook my head. "Undertown's empty. I'd bet Luccio's salary that everyone down here cleared out weeks ago when the blanket came down. That's why nothing popped out after the first quake."

"But where have they moved on to?"

"Anywhere." I paused, a sudden thought occurring to me, words lining up. _Anyone. Anywhere. Transitional_. I felt a smile spreading across my face. _It might work._

Lash caught onto my thinking, a half smile on her lips, too. "Left inner pocket," she said. I reached in, dug for a moment, and pulled out a little pouch full of dust. The Black Key.

A few months back (or a few years, depending on how you looked at it) McCoy had given me a gift; a key to a hidden place, outside time and space, yet linked to it. There were two things required to get in: a Key, and a doorway. A crossroads.

Any door linked to no one person, no one place, could function as a crossroads. Anywhere life was fleeting, moving, changing from one moment to the next. Like right here.

I held the pouch, the disintegrated remains of the Key to the Black Hall, in my right hand, my staff in my right, and concentrated on the place that was nowhere and everywhere at once. With the image firmly in mind, I stepped up to one of the doors to the ramshackle rooms, and pushed, stepping through without stopping to look what was on the other side.

I stepped into a long cave, stretching out to my left and right for as far as the eye could see. The floor was worn smooth. Small veins of light criss-crossed the surface of the obsidian. Inexhaustible torches in sconces lined the walls on either side at regular intervals, providing plenty of steady light.

And the doors, set into jambs of pure rock, waited for me, each with a window to another door back in the real world. The door behind me clicked shut. I turned and saw a window set in it, even though there had been no window on the other side. I saw the well and the hearth, disused and waiting.

I turned right at random, and started walking, Lash falling into step with me. As it had been explained to me, the Black Hall was a creation of both Queens, Mab and Titania, a place neither would ever step foot, its neutrality enforced by each other. While I couldn't really trust Titania anymore, Mab would violently destroy anyone who tried to step on her toes.

So, I walked along, peeking through windows at empty warrens and hovels and caves. "You know," I said, just to kill the silence, "I really hate the way things have been lately."

"What do you mean?" Lash asked.

"I mean…" What did I mean? I had just slipped out. Well, pick a word and run with it. "Well, for example, never having all the information I need. About the Circle, about Cowl, the Faerie Queens. Always being a step behind. And now they're in my town, which is in shambles." I heard my voice getting harder, and louder, and let it. "How many have died? Just in the last two days? Vampires, fae, undead. Traitors!"

"You're angry."

"Yeah! Yeah I am! Stars and stones, I haven't had time to be angry all day, have I? No, it's been rush-rush-rush! Crazy shit happening all around me, signs of the apocalypse, pretty much every person I know in town and in danger." I paused. "Am I having a nervous breakdown?"

"I think this is called 'venting'."

"Right. Blowing off steam." I stopped walking and took a few deep breaths. Then a few more. I had time to think, time to consider. Time to breath. Time to relax.

I opened my eyes after a little while. "All right. I'm better now." She looked concerned, but didn't say anything.

I turned to a door. The caves had given way to dark, empty streets. "Finally," I said, putting my hand to the knob. Looking through the window, I froze.

The trees I could see out there, across the street, were _moving_. They were swaying with the wind.

I looked down at my watch, but the glass was broken. I had no idea when that had happened, but between the fall through the Earth, the car accident and the various smackings-around I had taken today, I wasn't all that surprised. I shoved the door open, emerging into a motel parking lot. I glanced around; I vaguely recognised it as the place Sumi Kitoro, the Jade Court vampire, had used when she'd stayed in town.

"Time was moving while I was in there."

_Yes_, Lash said behind my eyes.

"What the hell is going on?"

_It appears that the usual rules governing the interaction of the Nevernever and Earth are… breaking down. It may be possible that time passed more quickly while you were in the Hall_.

"Oh, super. Really. That's just fucking great." I oriented myself and started off for St. Mary's, to the west, at a light jog. "All right; if you see an older model car, I'll hotwire it. Just how late do you think it could - "

The sound of hunting horns broke my concentration.

And they were loud. Like, right in my ear loud. I dropped my staff and fell to my knees, hands over my ears. The noisy blast faded away.

_Lash, what the hell?_

_Harry, look up._

I did. The fires we'd been racing, the Hellfire walls encircling the city, completed themselves as I watched. Flame erupted into the sky, enclosing most of Chicago in a magical barrier. Now complete, the fires all around began reaching higher, and curving in towards each other. Chicago was slowly being enveloped in a dome.

_Of course_, Lash whispered.

_Of course? Of course, what? What the hell do you know?_

_I curse myself for not understanding sooner, but the memory was faint. I have seen it twice before, however._

_Seen what?_

_Harry, can you not feel it? The movement in the air? The reason the Nevernever has been impossible to access, the reason the Black Hall was behaving incorrectly?_

_What are you talking about?_

_As with Milwaukee, as with Babylon._

Oh. Oh, no.

In 1994, the City of Milwaukee had been pulled into the Lands of Winter. The entire city. For two hours. No one in the city itself had kept a memory of the event, and the media hadn't said a damn thing. But the White Council knew. To this day, no one was entirely sure how Mab had managed it.

All of a sudden, I had a inkling.

"The entire city," I mumbled. "The entire city is in Transit?"

Lash stepped out of my peripheral vision and joined me. "Yes," she said simply.

"Transit to where? Summer?"

She shook her head, slowly, looking at me. "No. There is only one place this city is going," she said. "Only one place it has been going for a long time…"

She looked up again. Her voice was small, breathless. "I can feel it. Like returning to a home you swore you could never go back to…"

I looked up as the sky began to turn red. "Ah, Hell."


	12. Chapter 12

There was no snow. It was just gone. No puddles remained to mark where it had been. Like it had never been there in the first place. It wasn't warmer out, nor was it cold. It was just kind of… flat. Depressing, in a way.

I dug in a pocket for my calling stone, trying to find Ebenezar, but discovered it was missing. It had probably fallen out during my fall into the underground.

I wanted to run. I really, really did. But the thing is, I was now in a city in the Nevernever; a sure-fire way to get yourself killed is to go running off half-cocked in a place where nasty creatures can hide around any corner.

Not to mention that, as soon as the last of the Hellfire wall had gone up, the colour of everything had changed, become muted. Or maybe _drained_ was the right word. All the intensity and life had been drained from everything.

That, and everything I was carrying suddenly felt very heavy. "Lash? Why do my duster and my staff feel like they're made of lead?" The duster was pulling my shoulders down, practically begging me to take it off – but I wasn't about to do that in a place like this. My staff looked so happy resting against the wall, holding the whole building up, I almost didn't want to take it away from there. It did, after all, weigh a ton now.

She looked at me as I rested against a wall for the third time in less than ten minutes. "Hell, like all realms in the Nevernever, responds to the thoughts of those within. However, unlike Summer or Winter, which only obey the whims of the Queens, Hell will respond to anyone… negatively. Thus, anything you consciously relay on, or value, will be hindered, in a way."

I looked at her. "Swell."

"However," she continued, "because you, and all the people here, were Transited, rather than killed, it should not be quite as bad for you as it would be for departed souls."

"Small favours," I muttered. I thought for a moment. Souls. Departed souls. Could my soulball work here? Maybe as a signal flare? "What the hell," I muttered to myself.

I drew in a little magic, and found it was no different from what I was used to, which was good. I re-formed the ball I'd created earlier to get the crowd's attention, touched the gift of an archangel, and lifted my staff (with both hands).

As I released the spell, two things happened; the weight vanished, and the ball erupted into the sky. As it went, I saw, through its wake, a blue sky. The jolt of colour was disconcerting. All around the ball, as it hovered, the walls, the air, the streetlight, everything around it, seemed colourful, bright, normal. Not _drained_.

"Lash, what's going on?"

She hesitated. "I… I believe we may be seeing through a glamour."

"A glamour? A Fae illusion?"

"Not exactly, but similar. Harry, the Transit may only be partial."

"Partial?" I looked up at the ball. "You mean, incomplete?"

"Yes!" And now, she actually sounded excited. "Harry, Chicago is in Transit, there is little doubt of that. But to give the illusion of completeness… whoever is causing the Transit must be incapable of completing it on their own."

"So, what does that give us? They're trying to, what? Demoralize us?"

"In a manner of speaking. Hell will respond – negatively – to anything thought or felt here."

I thought about two and two, and finally got four. "If we believe it for long enough, it'll become true."

Her excitement vanished, replaced with solemnity. She nodded.

"Spectac - "

I was cut off by a scream from nearby. Of course.

I grabbed my staff up with both hands, and walked quickly for the corner of the street, willing my signal flare out with a wave as I went. Some of the hellweight – not all – returned.

I skidded to a stop and poked my head around the side of the building. There was a woman crouching on one side of a car. It was a nice car; German import. She was holding a smaller, thinner person to her, a girl – no, older than that, with short, dark hair. I caught a glint of light on one of her fingers. On the other side of the car, a man, probably the husband/father, a little overweight, was swinging a golf club at a demonic horror.

The creature looked like a six-armed crustacean. Its scales were blue-green. Its maw was gaping, as maws tend to be, as it screamed and flailed at the man, who, to his credit, was standing his ground. But without magic, and I seriously doubted he had any, he was doomed. The demon was playing with him. And the son of a bitch was familiar.

As it crouched to spring, I stepped out from behind my corner and shouted, "Chauncy!"

Everyone turned to look at me. Chauncy, a cold-hearted bastard I had used as a source of information a few years back, tilted his head. Mom pulled Daughter and backed away, both of their faces half-visible from behind the car, and Dad tried to keep his golf club between both of us and his family. Ballsy guy. On the other hand, it probably meant I looked like… well.

I stepped forward, staff thumping heavily on the cracked, somehow _dim_ ground.

Chauncy, or Chaunzaggaroth, stood straight when he saw me. When he opened his mouth again, he spoke in a perfect Oxford accent. "Wizard. I had hoped that I would see you again."

"Really? Because I seem to remember us parting under bad terms."

"Ah, Harry Dresden," he said, and I felt the weight of his words on my mind, "I have parted the mortal realm many times under much less pleasant circumstances. In truth, our dealings were always quite professional."

"Professional?" I stopped about ten feet away from him, and moved a little to the right, so the family wasn't in his line of sight. I could only hope they'd take the hint and move. Dad did seem to be moving away, slowly. "As I recall, you tried to get my Name out of me. You played off my feelings about my mother."

"You were desirous of information about her. And I had it. Your name, your True Name, was the only thing you had to bargain with." His voice took on a slightly nastier edge. "The only thing I wanted from you."

I shook out my shield bracelet and hoisted my staff towards him. "And you got a big chunk of it." I sighed. "You know I can't let you kill them, Chauncy. You're not taking these people."

"I beg to differ, Harry Dresden." Again, I felt the weight on me.

"Oh? How, you manipulative bastard? I'll stand between you and them."

The demon parted his face in a gross approximation of a smile. "No, Harry Blackstone Dresden, you kneel!"

In the time when Chauncy and I had a working relationship, it mostly amounted to me giving him my Name – the sound, from my own lips, that indicated the shape and essence of my most fundamental _self_ – in exchange for information. Names have power. And with someone's Name, you can do all sorts of nasty things to them that I won't go into now.

Knowledge of a creature's True Name makes summoning them much easier, because you can send a signal directly into their mind, into their _self_, rather than working from the outside. Fae and demons and any creature of the Nevernever are loath to part with their Names as once a wizard has it, they can summon and control the creature for as long as they want, since the _self_ of a creature never really changes.

I was mad at Chauncy for trying to take my Name in exchange for information about my mother, who I had never known, but in truth, he'd just been true to his nature. I'd parted with three of my Names; he'd never heard me say "Copperfield" between "Blackstone" and "Dresden." But the power behind the words was still there.

He pounced.

I didn't have time to toss a spell at him, but I already had my shield up. He hit it, and we both bounced apart. My staff fell away, and I hit the ground rolling. I came up on my knees, my blasting rod banging against my thigh where it hung from a leather tie inside my duster. I reached for it as Chauncy stalked towards me, unfazed by the impact.

I got the knot undone, and tried to lift my rod. Chauncy 'smiled' again. "Your Name has not changed, Harry Blackstone Dresden!"

He pounced again, and this time, I threw what little force had built up in my rings at him as I lifted my shield. It wasn't much, but it kept him off me. And he was stunned that I was moving.

"My Name hasn't changed," I said. "But _I_ have. _Fuego_!" I touched Hellfire and let it course down my arm, through the enchanted wood, and into the demon, immolating him.

Or not. He laughed, a horrible, chittering, clicking sound, as the firestorm abated. "The taint of a Fallen Angel is on you. But we of this realm do not fear our own weapon!" He drew back, and threw himself at me again.

"I kind of figured. _Fuego_!" This time, I touched Soulfire.

What a difference. The white-red flames engulfed Chauncy, and he was stopped in the air, enveloped by a near-solid cocoon of fire. He let out a piercing scream, the scream of a dying man, or dying lobster in boiling water, only amplified 100 times. The fire wrapped itself around him, squeezing and charring, lifting and crushing him all at once. I felt the power pouring out of me, and it felt _good_. I was yelling with sheer, sudden joy; this was Good triumphing over Evil. Capital letters, people!

Then my blasting rod exploded in my hand. Splinters went flying, and I cried out as a big one cut the meat of my hand. I closed my eyes tight and threw up an arm, slumping back on my legs. I heard Chauncey's burnt corpse hit the ground, and looked at it, cautiously. He was quite dead.

_What happened?_ I asked Lash, a little stunned.

_That_, she said_, is what happens when Hellfire and Soulfire are used in the same focus at the same time._

_But I didn't – _

_I did. The Soulfire was burning quickly, Harry – too quickly. You would have burned out your soul in minutes if you had continued. You could not hear me begging you to stop._

_Oh. Uh, thanks, then. I guess._ I grabbed the piece of wood still stuck in my hand, and yanked it out before I could convince myself not to. I grunted. A new blasting rod would take two days to make. So, no more controlled fire for Harry. I worked my way to my feet, gave Chauncey one last glance (the body was already beginning to dissolve) and turned.

The family was looking at me, all three of them peering over the trunk of a fairly new Audi. The parents were wide-eyed and staring. The daughter, however, stood, a small smile on her face. She was awfully familiar.

The man reached for her. "Faith, what are you doing?"

"It's okay, Uncle Mark," she said.

I shook my head, recognising the girl. "Now this," I said as I limped closer, "has got to be the oddest coincidence ever." The girl, I now knew, wasn't a teenager, though she wasn't particularly tall. In fact, she'd be old enough to drink by now.

She smiled and held up her left index finger, (supported by her right hand) where a plain metal ring gave off light. I say plain because it was just a piece of metal, compared to her otherwise expensive taste – even I knew her shoes alone were $300.00, and a hint of necklace I saw looked to be pure gold, with what I guessed was a real ruby set in it. "I knew it would be okay," she said.

"Yeah? What was your happy thought?"

She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "I don't know. Maybe that some crazy old man would come and save me?"

I barked out a laugh. "Good to see you, Faith."

"You too, Harry."

Not quite 13 years ago, when I'd still been struggling to get my PI's licence, I'd worked for a delightful fellow named Nick Christian, whose specialty had been finding missing children. He was good; I was better.

That was mostly due to the magic. Tracking spells, at that point, had been my only real specialty. I'd met Faith Astor the same night I'd first met Karrin Murphy, in a wonderful display of serendipity and troll-slaying. Faith and I had taken a little while to warm up to each other – the bruises on my shins have since healed – and one of the things that really helped with that was a little gift I'd given her: one of my early experiments in making force rings.

The ring itself didn't hold kinetic energy very well, but for some reason, it channelled emotional energy into light damn near perfectly. I'd never been able to duplicate that particular mistake.

I told Faith that I was heading for St Mary's, and she instantly decided she was following me, since the family car wasn't starting anyway. Her companions voiced, shall we say, _discontent_ over that decision, but Faith was the type of person who got her way. As we walked, we talked.

"Keep your eyes open, folks. If Chauncy could get in here, anything can."

"Chancy? You knew that thing's name?"

"We've had dealings in the past," I said, with as much James Bond-ishness as I could. "Honestly, he wasn't that powerful. Now tell me, what are you doing out of bed at this hour?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. The last aftershock woke us up, and Aunt Jessica finally said, that's it, we're out of here."

"Smart. But why weren't you gone already? After the first quake, I thought all the respectable folks bolted."

Faith looked over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows at her uncle. He sighed. "I had a meeting yesterday that couldn't be re-scheduled. The man I was meeting with… brooks no delays."

"He's a damn criminal," Jessica muttered.

"Keeps you in bling," he said back.

"Fat lot of good that does me, the jewellery weighs a ton for some reason. And your stupid car won't start - "

"So where have you been?" I asked Faith, cutting them off. I also made a mental note about what Mark and Jessica apparently valued. Then I thought again of Mark swinging that club, standing up to a minor hellspawn, and Jessica trying to shield Faith, and decided even materialistic people could be good people.

She snorted. "Boarding school, forever. After I ran away, my parents decided it was for my own good. By the time I finally moved home, they were divorced, Dad was in California with some hussy a year older than me, and Mom was a barely functioning alcoholic."

"Faith," the man – Mark – said sharply.

"It's okay, Uncle Mark. He probably already figured it was something like that." She looked at me as I led them down the street. "And he's a friend. Anyway, Dad took most of the money with him when he left, I was too old for a nanny, and Mom had no ability to cope left in her, so she sent me to live with my aunt and uncle." She pointed a thumb over her shoulder.

I turned my head; Mark nodded a balding head to me. He didn't seem comfortable, and had kept a tight grip on his golf club. I couldn't say I blamed him. His suit, while expensive, was ruined. The aunt – Jessica – kept looking at me with a curious expression. She'd lost one of her heels. While it was obvious both had good taste, neither of them was dressed quite as well as Miss Astor.

"So what happened after boarding school?"

She shrugged. "Not much. College. I was taking this semester off to travel; just got back from Australia. I'm not the innocent little runaway you saved anymore, you know."

"I believe you."

"Now I know where I know you from!" Jessica said suddenly. I stopped and turned. She was pointing at me. I lifted my eyebrows in silent questioning. "The Larry Fowler Show!"

I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose with my left hand. "Oh, please, not this crap again."

"Fowler never has anyone serious on his show."

Faith stepped in. "He's the real deal, Aunt Jessica. I saw him kill a troll when I was a kid."

"A troll?" I could hear the raised eyebrow in her voice.

"Honey," Mark said, "he did just blow up a walking lobster."

"Technically," I said, "I blew up a walking lobster _demon_. And yes, I saved Faith from a troll when she was a kid."

"I know it's not the sort of thing I was supposed to remember," Faith said, holding up her ring again, "but, I always had a good reminder." She twisted it with her other hand, trying to get it comfortable… which let me know what Faith relied on.

We started walking again.

"Okay," Jessica said, "if you're a real 'wizard'," – I could all but hear the quotation marks – "then do you know what the hell has been going on for the last three days?"

"Honestly? A lot. Some vampires and necromancers with a grudge came to town, and may or may not have been responsible for the earthquakes we've been having. My best friend's house was destroyed by a rampaging goat-man, and now, with those fires linked up all around us, the area of Chicago we're in has been partially Transited into another plane of existence. Specifically, we're in Hell."

I gave her the explanation in a matter-of-fact tone, and never stopped walking. And waited.

"Are you crazy?" she finally said.

"No," I said, still without looking back. I pointed up. "Nor am I blind. We're in the middle of some kind of in an inter-dimensional crisis. See the red sky? Sure-fire sign."

She shut up, and I caught Faith giving me a tiny smirk.

I stopped walking again when I caught sight of something on the street.

"What are you - oh. Oh, God," Jessica said from behind her fingers. "What happened?"

I stepped closer to the shredded, bloodied remains we'd stumbled across, right in the middle of the road. A once-over told me two things: the remains were not human; and I knew who had killed it. I felt myself smiling, in spite of everything. "It's okay," I said, stepping back. "It's not a person."

"It's… what? But, the clothes - "

"I know. It looks like a man. But the blackened skin and patchy tongue, not to mention the distorted bone structure, and four-inch claws on the hands, are dead giveaways." I was being a little sarcastic, but not enough for her to catch while she was freaked out. "It's a vampire."

"A – a vampire? Are you kidding me?"

Mark leaned in and whispered, "Lobster demon."

She sighed, then looked up at the sky again.

"No, I'm not kidding," I said. "Specifically, it's a vampire of the Red Court. Which is great, since I'd just about forgotten about them. But I think it was killed by a sword-wielding friend of mine."

"A – a what? A what-ing friend?"

"Sword-wielding. Means she has a sword. And she can wield it."

"Who is it, Harry?" Faith asked.

"Remember the cop who was with us on the bridge?"

She smiled. "Sure. Karrin. She was nice to me."

"Well, turns out she's part samurai."

"Cool."

"Extremely. Now, come on, we need to keep moving."

A block and a half later, we came around a corner, and St. Mary's came into view. I felt myself relax a little. We were approaching from the front, and there were several soldiers manning the steps and front door, which was closed. Interestingly, the church itself seemed to not have been _drained_ like everything else around us. "Let's get inside," I said.

A few steps in from the street, the artificial hellweight vanished completely. As we got to the door, one of the soldiers stepped forward. He looked a little freaked out, but less so than Jessica and Mark. His eyes were wide, and kept tracking back up to the sky. It was Lee, one of my eavesdropping targets from yesterday. He tried to sound authoritative, but he was hesitant. "Hey, you, tall guy. Are you Dresden? Harry Dresden?"

I stopped at the base of the steps. "Yeah, why?"

"That black Russian guy with the sword was looking for you. In fact, a bunch of people are looking for you."

"Really? He inside?"

"Yeah, somewhere."

"Harry," Faith said, "how many friends with swords do you have?"

I opened my mouth to answer, then stopped and thought about it for a second; I realised I'd jumped the gun a little saying that vamp had been carved up by Murphy. "A few," I finally said. I led her and her relatives up the steps and through the door.

At first glance, I'd have said there was a thousand people inside. Then I remembered the balcony, and knew there could be at least two hundred more. It was like the previous day, but with more chaos, confusion, injury and fear. Fewer women and children, though. The majority of folks I saw were male and military age. Some really were military, some were Wardens.

Everyone was moving, conversations were low and tense. The atmosphere was charged. The overhead lights were still on, so the generator had to still be running, but that was probably only because no one had thought about how important it was yet. I put it out of my mind. I didn't see any close acquaintances, so they had to be hiding in the back room. "I have to go find a few sword-wielding friends," I said. "Will you be okay?"

Faith nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Harry."

"Take care, kid. Don't let anyone lose you."

"Like I've never heard that one before."

I grinned at her, nodded to Mark and Jessica, then headed around the outside of the crowd, hugging the wall, making for the back room that had been the scene of so many of my most important conversations.

I strode down the back hallway, and the two Wardens and two National Guardsmen who were standing outside the door both straightened up when they saw me. "Sir - " one of the Wardens said when she saw me. She was the young woman from the vampire incident.

"Evening," I said. "I think there are a few people in there waiting for me."

"Yes, sir. Wizard McCoy and the Captain have been asking after you."

I nodded, reaching for the doorknob. "The Knights in there, too?"

"One of them."

I turned and looked at her, about to ask which Knight she was talking about, when the door opened from the other side. My head snapped back to Elaine's face. "Harry!" She threw herself at me. I caught her in a hug, dropping my staff.

"Hey. Miss me?" I waddled through the doorway as it swung itself shut.

"I thought – I - oh, stars above, you know what I thought. I didn't have time to send you a message – we were moving as soon as you fell – they were on us so fast!" She pulled back, a smile on her face. "Then, as soon as we got close to the church, they disappeared. But I knew you were okay. I knew it. Are you okay?"

I froze for a second, wondering why I hadn't tried to send Elaine a message. It wasn't that I'd thought I was too far away – it simply hadn't occurred to me. And I had no idea why. Before I could answer, Molly hit me from the side like a wrecking ball, knocking Elaine loose and almost pushing me through the closed door. A wrecking ball with _clamps_. She squeezed me tight enough to wake the fire in my bruised ribs. "Oh, thank God," she whispered.

"Hey, kiddo," I wheezed out. "Good to see you. Can't breathe."

"Oh, sorry." She loosened up and I re-inflated. "Someone else was worried about you, too."

_Murph?_ I thought. She stepped aside, glancing down.

A pair of big, puppy-dog eyes were trained on me. I smiled and kneeled down. Mouse let out a short, low groan.

"I know you were worried," I said. "Wasn't exactly a cake walk for me, either."

His head tilted and he made a huffing sound.

"Hey, you want to stick with me everywhere I go, we're going to have to be tethered together."

He looked down, then back up and huffed again.

"Oh, sure, you say that now. But what about when you want to jump over a car, or chase someone down, or something?"

His head tilted the other way, then he huffed again.

"Quick-release leash? I don't think so." I stood up and gave him a scratch behind the ears. "I'm alright, pal." I looked around the room. Sanya was leaning against the far wall, his arms crossed and big grin on his face; Lara Raith was standing in a corner, an eyebrow raised in my direction; Thomas had just stood up from the little table, relief visible behind his cocky exterior; Billy and Georgia, wearing clothes that looked like they'd been pulled out of the church's lost and found, stood near Sanya; Molly was in a corner, as far from Ana as she could get; Elaine was at my right elbow; Carlos, Chandler with his burned but dignified face, and Luccio stood in the middle of the room, each obviously happy but reserved.

And next to them, Ebenezar McCoy stood with one hand on his hip, the other on his staff, and half a smile on his face. "You lucky, ridiculous, unbelievable, son of a…" he trailed off and stepped forward, giving me a slap on her arm. "You gave me a scare, Hoss. Where the hell is your calling stone?"

"Good to see you, too, Sir." I glanced around again. "I think it's somewhere in Undertown, now. Uh, has anyone seen Murphy?"

All the smiles quickly faded. Sanya pulled away from the wall, as if suddenly uncomfortable to be lounging. "_Nyet_," he said.

Elaine cleared her throat. "Um, no one's seen her since she led the gruffs away."

I took a breath. "Okay. That's okay. Uh, Sanya, did you happen to carve up a Red Court vamp a few blocks away?"

He shook his head. "I have been here. If I saw vampire, I would kill vampire." He glanced at Thomas and Lara. "Well, usually."

That was a good sign. "Okay. Well, good, I think. I saw a Red, about two blocks away. Looked to be sword-work. I thought it had to be… she would have come… I mean, unless I was wrong, and it was someone else here."

Luccio said, "None of the Wardens has reported contact with the Red Court since we arrived in Chicago."

"We gave them a beating," Carlos said.

"We did," Chandler said. "A thorough drubbing."

Well, that settled it, in my mind. Murph had killed that vampire. But where the hell was she?

"They were licking their wounds," McCoy said. "And now they've come charging back, along with all their friends."

"What do you mean, 'all their friends'?" Sanya asked.

"Very good question." I turned to my grandfather. (Thomas' grandfather too, though I hadn't told him. That was one secret that wasn't mine to share; McCoy had asked me not to. He was 'waiting for the right moment.' I'd have to get on him about that.) "I assume we can put all the cards on the table? No more politicking?"

McCoy snorted. "Hell, Hoss, I been waiting for that longer than you have."

So, I took a deep breath, and laid it all out to my friends and allies. Some of them already knew bits and pieces; McCoy knew almost all of it.

I told them everything I knew about the Jade Court, which Molly and the Wardens already knew; how they feed on memories, and how they were part of the grander conspiracy.

I told them about everything McCoy and I had learned during our trip back in time; how Phil Denton and his demented, yet federally-backed werewolf buddies had been involved. This got a snort out of Will. I told them how I stumbled across the former Summer Lady announcing that Titania was at the heart of the Black Council.

I told them about Father Forthill, whose real name was Edimon, consort to Titania, father of Aurora, and now under the watchful guardianship of Mab. Molly shuddered a bit when I got to that part, but she confirmed that the Sidhe and former priest was in Arctis Tor, though she had been forbidden to speak to him. Thankfully, she said nothing about Bob, my former lab assistant and Maeve, the Winter Lady's father. His existence would have been too hard to explain.

I told them about the Black Council's plan, to Transit Chicago into Hell, though I wasn't sure why. Most of them had figured that part out. Everyone figured the earthquakes were part of that, somehow.

I told them about Grigori Cristos, and Peabody, and how they had manipulated the White Council, and the fact that there was definitely still another traitor on the Council. Ana and Chandler both grew icy at that.

And I told them what Fix had said, that Lily was missing, that Titania had been speaking to invisible forces about Outsiders, and that the Summer Court was against us, though again, the Wardens already knew that part.

"I'm beginning to think our plan isn't going to fly, Hoss," McCoy said when I was done.

"Agreed. We don't have the time or the opportunity, anymore. And Winter seems to be in our corner for now." I shook my head. "We don't go after the Sidhe Courts."

"So who do we go after?" Will asked. Everyone turned to look at him. He glanced around, but didn't wilt under the attention. "What? The city - _Our_ city - has been dragged into Hell. Literally. We have to do something."

I looked at McCoy. "A Transit," he said, "especially a partial one, has to be maintained."

"But given the nature of Hell," I said, "it'll become permanent if it's believed for long enough."

"And once it's permanent, the Hellfire walls can come down, and the demons flood in, instead of trickle."

"So what do we do?"

"Hell's bells, boy, I was waiting for you to tell me."

I blinked. "Uh, what?"

"You're better informed, and it is your town."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. I looked at Luccio.

She lifted her hands. "The Wardens defer to the Senior Council member on this."

I looked at Thomas and Lara. "What can I say, Harry?" Thomas said. "We're hitching our horse to your wagon. When weird shit goes down in this city, you're always at the centre of it, trying to fix things."

"Now that's an exaggeration."

"Not by much," Georgia said.

"Before you came," Sanya said, "we were organising search party."

"That's sweet, but insane. Once you step off hallowed ground, everything you depend on will drag you down."

"One more thing we didn't know," McCoy said.

I stopped and sighed. I was tired, and hungry. The last thing I wanted to was to be making decisions or figuring out how to undo a Transit. I rubbed my eyes.

The moment's silence allowed us to hear voices in the hall. I turned.

The _raised_ voices in the hall.

I pushed the door open. One of the Wardens was shouting, sword drawn and a caltrop-shaped wooden focus in his other hand. "Stand against the wall, hands out to the sides!" The other Warden was behind him, and the Guardsmen were even further back, towards the church proper, rifles up, and uncertain expressions on their faces.

In the other direction, Fix was half standing, half leaning against a wall, hands held up defensively. He was dressed as he had been last time I'd seen him – this morning, I suddenly realised – but he was dishevelled. His sword wasn't drawn. "Harry!" he said, seeing me. "Harry, tell them I'm not a danger!"

"We were warned Summer couldn't be trusted, and after the attack at the Hellfire wall, it was proven!" the Warden said, as much to me as to Fix.

"I wasn't there!"

"Okay," said, stepping into the hall. "It's true that last time I saw the Summer Knight, he was under orders to kill me."

"I'm not anymore!" Fix shouted, though he was backing up towards the loading door.

"What do you - "

"Save it!" Luccio was in the hall now, and trying to push forward. "Do you have any idea how many of my people fell to your allies?"

Fix was backing up a little faster, now. "No, please, you have to understand - "

Then Chandler was there, pushing through. The hall had suddenly become very crowded. "I understand perfectly. Your Queen has declared war on us."

"No! No, the Queen - "

"Put him down!" Luccio commanded.

"The debt! I invoke your debt!" Fix suddenly said, pointed at the door. I followed his finger. He pointed at Elaine.

I saw her eyes grow, then before I could get a hand up to stop her, she pushed forward, squeezed between the more cautious Chandler and Luccio, turned and threw out her arms before the Summer Knight. Her shield bracelet, which linked to a ring on her middle finger via a short chain, lit up with a smidge of bluish light.

"What are you doing?" Ana asked. She sounded more confused than angry.

"I have a debt to repay," Elaine said, eyes fixed on the Captain. "I must aid a member of the Summer Court." She swallowed. "I'm sorry. But if you could get out of a deal with the Fae this easily, wouldn't you?" Then she looked at me.

"Easy? It's not easy, yet, Miss Mallory."

Molly was at my side behind the Wardens, sword drawn. She looked just as uncertain as the Guardsmen, who had retreated further down the hall. There were gawkers poking around the corners, wide-eyed and nervous. A few more Wardens appeared there, too, looking grave and battle-ready.

Ana looked over her shoulder at me. She didn't say anything, but there was uncertainty on her face. The Captain couldn't afford uncertainty for long, though. If I didn't do something, she'd have to take Elaine and Fix both down just to maintain her authority.

I stepped forward, slowly, between the Wardens, past Luccio, up to Elaine. Then I turned and stood beside her, shield at the ready.

Ana stared at me. "Harry…"

"I'd like to hear what he has to say," I said as calmly as I could.

Her eyes shifted back to Elaine. She was wondering if I was under her control.

"Wardens," McCoy said, stepping into the hall, "weapons down." His voice brooked no argument, and the swords tilted to the floor almost immediately. Ana's cold eyes never left Elaine.

McCoy stepped out in front of Luccio. "Relax, you two."

Elaine and I glanced at each other, then dropped our left hands and turned to Fix.

"Alright, son," McCoy said, "tell us why you're here, and why we shouldn't wipe the floor with you. And make it good."

Fix took a deep breath, glanced at me, then Elaine, then back to McCoy. "Okay. It's pretty simple, actually. After my last errand, after Harry put me through that tree, I returned to Equis Val. The veil between worlds was… strange, but it parted. When I got there… Sir, the Queen was gone."

"Gone? Titania just up and disappeared?" It was pretty obvious Eb didn't believe him.

"I swear. The Lady has been missing for two days. At first, I didn't know what to think, but then I remembered what Harry told me a few weeks ago, about the Queen. I didn't believe him at the time, but Lily began to. When she vanished… I realised Harry was right."

"At long last," I said.

"I was worried, but I figured as long as the Queen was around, Lily was safe. I guess I thought she was keeping her as insurance, or something. But now the Queen is gone, too. No one knew where she went, when I asked. Fae and Sidhe alike were in a panic – to have the Queen or the Lady gone is a regular occurrence, but for both to be missing, and no idea where they are… it's unheard of."

"So what did you do?" McCoy asked.

Fix shrugged. "The only thing I could think of. I went to see the Mothers."

My eyes snapped to Elaine's. We'd enjoyed a little trip through the woods to meet the Mothers once. It had ended… well, _badly_ doesn't do it justice. She'd betrayed me, as part of a debt to Aurora, Lily's predecessor. I'd ended up almost drowning, though ultimately, she'd given me the clue I'd needed to survive. As for the Mothers themselves… well, they'd been great conversationalists.

"You met the Mothers?" I asked.

"Yes. It was irregular, I know, but I had to. The whole Court was in an uproar, we needed guidance, authority. And I needed to ask a boon."

"A boon? You begged for a favour?"

The slight but muscular young man nodded. "I asked Mother Summer if she knew what had happened to the Queen. She knew. So I asked for an order, something to override Titania. I asked her to relieve me, for a time, of my obligation to obey the Queen. And she granted it. I'm no longer bound to Titania's will."

There was total, stunned silence for a second, before Molly whispered, "Why didn't I think of that?"

I licked my lips, then rubbed my face, then crossed my arms and scowled. Some combination of those actions got my brain in gear. I looked at McCoy. "Are we satisfied?"

He nodded. "I am if you are."

"Going over Titania's head," I said to the Summer Knight. "Ballsy."

"I had to do something. If she's hurt Lily… I don't even know where to start looking. I was hoping you could help me with that. That's why I came here, as soon as the veil between worlds stabilised."

"Look, Fix," I said gently, "I want to help – I care about Lily, too – but I've got a few other problems on my plate. Like getting my city back to the real world. I know what happened last time, but I don't really have time to go searching at the moment."

"Oh." He sounded disappointed. Not too surprised, though. "There's something else I should tell you about Chicago."

"What?"

"Time has been… dilated. Decelerated. It's passing faster in the real world than here."

"Oh, good, this cake needed some icing."

"I'm not sure who's doing it – Titania could, but only if you were in Summer lands."

"It's the Circle."

"Who?"

"The Black Council. Titania's Brotherhood of Evil Mutants."

"Are they the ones she was talking to?"

"Talking to?"

"When she was alone?"

"No, that was - " I paused, suddenly realizing something. My voice got really quiet. "That was an Outsider."

"Hoss?" McCoy asked.

I had to talk it out. It made sense, didn't it? "We know the Queen is influenced by He Who Walks Behind. But… she's possessed. He is within her, or one of the Walkers is. What if she wasn't speaking to others, but to herself? The other aspects of Legion? There are five…"

"That's… disturbing, but it doesn't change much."

"Maybe it does. It means she's not – I mean _he's_ not – _it's_ not – in communication with the Outside. He's cut off, stuck here. Well, not here, but not Out There, either." I stopped. I was rambling, and starting to lose my train of thought. This was important, but I wasn't sure _how_.

_Lash? What can you tell me about Outsiders?_

_Much. It will take a few minutes. And you may have questions_. She paused. Actually, knowing you, there will definitely be questions.

"I need a minute," I said aloud.

"Hoss, time is of the essence, here."

"I know, Sir. I just… I need a place to sit, quietly, just for a couple of minutes." I dug into my pocket and pulled out the Black Key. "Or less."

He nodded. "Hurry up."

I looked at the loading door, but that wouldn't work; it wasn't a place where people made their decisions, or the direction of their lives. Not a place where their understanding or belief in themselves was altered…

I smiled. I pushed past Elaine and the Wardens, past the very confused-looking Guardsmen, past the small crowd of tense gawkers, and headed down one side of the church to a wooden closet-sized structure: the confessional.

Gripping the Key, image of the Black in mind, I opened the door, and stepped into darkness.

I looked through the window in the door, out at the still crowd. Whatever disruption had caused the temporal protections around the Hall to waver had been corrected.

"Alright, Lash, that's it. I've been putting this conversation off for over a month, without even realising that I was doing it. Tell me everything you know about Outsiders, and what they have to do with me." I sat down, cross-legged, and leaned back against the door.

"Very well." Her image sat facing me. Her face was serious. "To truly understand what Outsiders are, you must first know what they are not."

"Alright. What aren't they?"

"All supernatural beings, be they angels, demons, vampires, Fae, even the Sidhe themselves, are, in some way, mortal."

My eyebrows went up. "Say what?" I asked intelligently.

She smiled, just a tiny bit. "That is not to say that they are human; many, if not most, are older than humanity. Yet, every immortal being, every spirit, is linked to mortals. Even the skinwalker. They were either set here by old gods, intent on testing or guiding humanity, or were influenced by humans somehow."

"Have you ever tried to influence a faerie without pizza? It's damn near impossible."

"I do not mean influence in the _obvious_ way. I mean in the most _fundamental_ way. We, all the angels, both Fallen and Standing, the Fae, all the monsters roaming Earth and the Nevernever, even, or perhaps _especially_, the Sidhe, were shaped by human understanding. By mortal _belief_."

"But you just said most of those beings were older than humanity."

"True. But what do they all look like, to a greater or lesser degree? To look like humans, they had to be shaped by humans. You know as well as anyone, the worship, the sacrifice of mortals, can greatly increase a being's standing… and standing is power to the supernatural."

"And all supernatural power manifests literally. Increased standing means increased influence. Not just over mortals, but other supernaturals. Alright, I'm with you so far."

"In this way, it can be seen that all supernatural beings, be they gods, Fae, vampires or demons, _need_ humanity, even if only to prey upon."

"Right."

"Outsiders are not like that."

I blinked. "And?"

"And? Harry, they do not _need_ humanity. No matter how depraved a creature or monster you have ever faced, do you think any of them ever had, as their ultimate goal, the complete and total destruction of humanity and the Earth?"

"Uh… maybe?" Now that I thought about it, I'd never faced anything or anyone like that. Even the Denarians, who were pretty much pure evil, had never wanted to destroy everyone… after all, there would be none left to worship them. "No. No, I don't think I ever have. But why would any being want to destroy an entire world? Especially if they want to rule or control it?"

"Outsiders do not _want_ to rule or control. They _want_ only to destroy."

"But… why? There's so much here… even the Nevernever - "

"As vast and seemingly infinite as the Nevernever is, Harry, it is linked to and dependant upon Earth. It touches the universe in no other place, since humanity exists nowhere else. The destruction of Earth would destroy the Nevernever."

"But… but…"

"I know, it seems inconceivable. But the universe is a big place, Harry. Earth… well, Earth is not."

My voice seemed small, all of a sudden. "What do they look like?" I whispered.

"Whatever they wish. As I said, all the other creatures you've ever encountered are, in some way, dependant upon humans. Outsiders are not defined, dependant, or shaped by mortals in any way. They could look like people, if they wanted, but I can think of no reason they would want to. They could be anything, Harry. Or nothing."

I took a moment getting my head around that. "I still don't understand. Why would they want to destroy us? There has to be a reason."

The echo of an angel looked hesitant. "That is nigh-impossible to say for certain. It may be that the very concept of 'motive' is beyond them… or they beyond it. That they simply do what they do, not out of malice, but because it is what they wish."

"You don't sound convinced."

She looked away from me for a moment. "There was another theory. You must understand, that as member of the Host, the very idea of asking questions of those above me would never have occurred…"

"But as a Fallen Angel?"

She nodded, sadly. "Just before the Fall," and yes, she said it with a capital letter, "I was already changing, in my essence. Thus, I asked Uriel himself if he knew why the Outsiders hated the Almighty and his universe so much. He said he did not, but that he believed the existence of mortal life was anathema to them. That the sounds of mortal minds, praying, cursing, asking, telling, feeling, _knowing_… it hurt them, somehow."

She shook her head, a remarkably human gesture. "They are creatures who witnessed the Big Bang, the creation and shaping of this universe, but were shut out of it by the power of the first Gatekeepers."

"Who were the first Gatekeepers?"

"The Dragons," she said at once.

"Christ!"

"No, he did not arrive until much later."

I blinked, then snorted. Then a little laugh. Lash looked at me like I'd gone nuts. I saw her thinking, then figuring it out.

"You were cursing," she said.

"Yeah. Sorry about the confusion."

"I understand. I would point out, however, that you would not appreciate people shouting 'Dresden!' every time they were surprised or something had gone wrong."

"Actually, that's usually when they shout my name."

"That would be true. Especially for Outsiders."

"What do you mean?"

"I told you once before, the circumstances of your birth were arranged, very precisely. The date, the time, even, I'm sure, the location, were all arranged by your mother. The power she wanted you to have was designed to fight the Outside, and those of it."

"What kind of power are we talking about?"

She hesitated. "That, I do not know. Even among the Angels, the nature of what power there was that could hold back the Outside… it was never defined for me, Harry. I only know what circumstances would have led to its creation. And that it was strictly a mortal gift; no Angel may wield direct power over Outsiders."

"Okay," I said, thinking, hand on my chin. "Mom decided I'd need power over Outsiders, only she knows why. Given her history, and her taste in men before she met my dad, it's probably something I don't want to know about. So, she arranges it, dies to the entropy curse Raith brought about, which was actually partly powered by He Who Walks Behind. Cripes.

"Now, this power has no description, no incantation, no form, other than the fact that it can only be used by mortals. Anything else?"

"Yes. Given the date and location of her birth… it is possible that Elaine Mallory has the same gift."

My hand dropped into my lap, limp. I sagged back against the door. "What?"

"It is possible. If she was born at the correct time… it is possible."

"She doesn't know what time she was born."

"I know."

"How do you know that?"

"I live in your mind, Harry."

"Oh. Right." I jumped to my feet, suddenly anxious. Well, maybe freaked-out is a better term. "Elaine and I… Justin. He planned it. He planned all of this."

Justin DuMorne, once a Warden, charged with destroying the miniature archive – Bob – belonging to Heinrich Kemmler – Cowl and Kumori's teacher – had instead kept Bob, found me and Elaine, and forced us to develop our magic early and strong. He'd been raising a tiny army, an army capable of holding off any form of threat, even Outsiders. Or, maybe, of _controlling_ Outsiders.

"DuMorne had something to do with the Circle. Hell's bells, if I hadn't killed him, Elaine and I might be part…" I trailed off. How close had I come to being one of the bad guys? "Talk about walking a fine line."

"Now you know," Lash said. "Now you understand just how important you are. You and Elaine might be the only ones capable of righting what has happened. Of preserving the balance."

I took a breath. Another. I leaned against the wall, straightened up. "You're right. Completely. Somehow, I have to get to Titania, and I have to get that son of a bitch out of her head." I turned back to the door. "But first, I have to get my city back where it belongs."


	13. Chapter 13

"All of them? At once?" Luccio asked.

I shook my head and shovelled another Twinkie into my mouth. It was just about the last of the food. "No." I swallowed the golden, artificially sweetened ambrosia.  
"One at a time." I dusted my fingers off, sprinkling my bag, which Thomas had thoughtfully brought along, in sticky crumbs.

Everyone was crowded into the war room (as I liked to think of it). I had 'borrowed' an erasable whiteboard from Father Fraser's office, along with a couple of felt markers. I'd drawn a large five-pointed star on it, then thickened the pentagon in the middle. "What's left of the city inside the barrier has been carved up. The north-eastern part," – I marked off a quarter of the inner pentagon – "has been claimed by Cowl and Kumori. She's potentially on our side. They'll be surrounded by ghosts and zombies.

"The northwest is claimed by Summer." I made another 'L'-shaped line and thought again, with regret, of Murph's house collapsing. I saw Fix take a deep breath. "Hobgoblins, sylphs, gruffs, and who-knows-what-else Titania has on hand.

"The south-eastern part, where we are now," – I made a little dot on the board – "is claimed by Mavra and her Black Court cronies. She's already shown she's willing to work together with the others, as we saw when we got the last group out. Although, I'm willing to bet there's some animosity between Cowl and Mavra – I doubt she likes the idea that she could be controlled, in any way.

"And based on the corpse I found, I'm willing to bet the southwest is claimed by the Red Court. Probably some higher-up member of their nobility."

Molly asked, "And you want to take them out, one at a time? Is that good idea? Or even possible?"

I capped the marker. "Look. The church's grounds are safe – for now. Once the Transit completes – and it will complete, every second, it gets closer – the barrier comes down, and the hordes will flood in. There are demons and other nasties stalking the streets right now – I killed one on my way here. They're only able to get in because they've been to Chicago before, through portals or in summoning rituals."

"Not to mention the souls," McCoy said.

I stiffened up. "You mean people who used to live here?"

He nodded, his eyes distant. "They'll be set loose, to torture and terrorise those they once knew. If they've been here long, there won't be much difference between them and the pure demons." He blinked and sighed. "And once the demons flood in," McCoy said, his voice now slow, deliberate, and somehow heavy, "we're done for, hallowed ground or not. And so are all the other people here, or still in hiding."

There was a moment of complete silence. I let it sink in.

"The Transit is being maintained. It will become permanent if people believe the image they're being presented with for long enough. And what with the colour of the sky, and the recent earthquakes, and everything else they've witnessed… The only way to save the people who are left," I said, "is to show them that they _can_ get out of here. The only way back is to stop the ones who are maintaining the Transit. If we're lucky, and fast, we'll get them all before Chicago is screwed forever. Hopefully, each one we take out will cause the others more strain, and speed up the process."

There was another quiet moment, and I had to resist the urge to say, 'One does not just walk into Mordor.'

Then Thomas raised his hand. "So who do we go after first?"

Before I could answer, Billy said, "Why do I feel like I'm about to play a bad Final Fantasy game?"

Sanya turned to him. "13?"

"I was thinking Ten-two."

"_Da_, that _was_ bad."

I cleared my throat. When I had everyone's attention back, I pointed at the board. "We clean up own backyard, first. We go after Mavra and the Black Court."

"Where do we start looking?" Luccio asked.

"Well, I think there's a good reason she took this end of town." I turned to the little table and picked up a street map of Chicago. I unfolded it and clipped it to the whiteboard. "We're here," I said, making a dot with my marker. "And she's used _this_ neighbourhood before." I made another dot, on a street nine blocks away. It was run-down, largely poor and with a low population, even before the mass exodus. She'd used the building I'd dotted a few years ago; a homeless shelter. "I think she'll take up residence here, again. Or at least nearby."

"You're sure?" Ana asked.

"It's where she held children as snacks. It's where she broke the will of several workers and the mind of another, forcing Murphy to kill the poor bastard. It's where she used napalm to virtually incinerate my left hand." Ana winced.

"And it's where she managed to fake her own death, escaping into Undertown."

Yeah, she'd be there. She was an old creature, a creature of habit, a survivor. She'd want what was familiar and usable. And she'd have an army, likely raised from the poor and incognizant she'd found in the neighbourhood.

"Should be a piece of cake. Now, who's coming?"

They all came. McCoy insisted, despite Luccio's protests. So, she and Chandler had to come to protect him. Fix, Molly, Elaine and Mouse were pretty much givens, and Carlos stepped up once Molly did. Sanya just laughed and stepped forward. At Thomas' sharp look, Lara rolled her eyes and said something about not being comfortable in churches anyway.

Will volunteered, then he and Georgia went to have a quiet conversation with the rest of the Alphas. The pack stayed behind. The two teams of Wardens also remained to protect the church, and the Guardsmen were all too happy to have them.

I took a few minutes to grab an item or three from my Big Bag of Wizarding, and consult briefly with a priest, then we were off.

The first hundred or so steps on our march went well; we mostly managed to fit into two cars, including Thomas' 'borrowed' pick-up. Fix, Molly, Elaine and I rode with the Raiths; Sanya went with the White Council members in Father Fraser's old station wagon, following us. Will, Georgia and Mouse provided a four-legged escort. For a wonder, the vehicles kept running after we left the church grounds.

The ride was tense, as you might imagine. We kept our eyes peeled, and the window in the back of the cab open. Thomas and Carlos drove slowly, keeping the engines quiet and avoiding the various wrecks and damage to the streets. The tension was almost palpable, and I could _not_ get comfortable in my duster.

"How's everyone holding up?" I asked quietly.

"Can't seem to… catch my breath," Fix muttered. _So, he relies on his Sidhe-gifted vitality_, Lash whispered.

"Can't… can't concentrate," Molly said. _Takes her mental fortitude for granted_.

"Feeling a little exposed," Elaine said. Her eyes were huge. _Her anonymity_.

"I'm fine," Lara said over her shoulder. I could almost feel Lash roll her eyes.

"Yeah, me too," Thomas said, though he at least had the decency to look embarrassed about it.

On a hunch, I said, "Let me try something. Give me your hands." I put a hand out, face up, and Elaine, Fix and Molly each put one on it in a pile. Then I capped them with my other, and touched Soulfire. I didn't really have a spell in mind, I just willed out a little energy to work with. As it touched them, looks of alertness returned to their faces, and some tension bled away. They looked at their hands, then at each other. "Thanks," Molly said.

"No problem." I turned back to the road.

Two blocks from the shelter, they attacked us. It started with a sudden, distinctive chill, running right down my spine. I heard Mouse growling over the cars.

"Here they come!" I said, though I couldn't see any vampires.

Thomas hit the brakes, and my eyes snapped forward. Three vamps were landing in the middle of the street. "They're too close to run down," he said.

"Then we cut them in half," Fix said.

"Sounds good to me," I said, and started to jump over the side of the truck's box. The others followed suit. As I was in the air, the vamps all charged the truck, hitting it at the same second and lifting. The nose of the truck flew off the ground, and the edge of the box snagged my foot, causing me to twist in the air. The truck flipped right over, landing on its roof and knocking my staff out of my hand. I was the only one who didn't land on my feet; fortunately, I managed to recover into a very cool-looking roll, very carefully not landing on my left pocket.

As I rolled, I saw the other car, surrounded by vampires. Before I could even get to my feet, two waves of blue-grey energy erupted out from the doors of the station wagon, blasting the vamps away, and taking the doors with them. Luccio, Sanya and Carlos popped out of one side, McCoy and Chandler on the other. No problems there.

I turned back to see Thomas and Lara wrestling a vampire to the ground, Fix and Molly eviscerating another, and a third wrapped in a thick chain, writhing on the ground, Elaine standing over it. "Well, I feel useful," I muttered, snagging my staff and heaving myself to my feet. I glanced back at the other car again, where Sanya was cutting a vampire in half and Chandler was immolating another, and saw something out of the corner of my eye.

Just a flicker of movement. A bit of a blur, but definitely a human-size form. There, then gone. Instinct took over, and I threw up a shield, twisting my body halfway around to get my left arm pointing to the right. Nothing hit me.

And sent me flying over the upside-down truck.

I landed on Fix, saw stars, then Molly's face. "Harry, are you okay?"

"Uhhh," I said.

"He's fine!" she said over her shoulder.

Elaine entered my vision. "Help me get him up." They heaved me to my feet. Brain still a little groggy, I turned to look down at Fix. Mouse had come out of nowhere, and was now with us, too. He licked the Summer Knight.

"You okay?" I asked Fix.

"Uhhh."

"Good." I checked my pockets, then got my left hand out again, and managed to keep my balance. I shook my head clear, then said, "Shields up, vampires off the port bow."

Molly helped Fix stand, then shook out her own defensive focus. Lara and Thomas came closer, the vamp they'd been working on now dissolving into black goo. He looked fidgety and restless, she was fine.

"Hoss!" McCoy called. He was only about twenty feet away, head and eyes in constant motion. "You alright?"

"Yeah. I barely saw the one that got me, though. It was a blur."

"Got to be old, then." The older Black Court Vampires get, the more powerful they get. And the more they need to feed. Sanya, the Wardens and the werewolves encircled McCoy, the group slowly getting closer.

"I guess we came the right way," Thomas said, his voice tight. He produced a ridiculous-looking handgun from his unnecessarily tight jeans. He started aiming into every shadow, jerky and tense.

He was hungry, and fighting it.

I heard the first four shots individually before I realised we were even under fire. Three pinged off my shield, one more off Molly's. The kid flinched and made an "Ahhh!" sound. Thomas spun and got off a few pot-shots.

"Down!" I shouted. Almost everyone hit the deck, even the canines.

The pings became a roaring rain of metal, bouncing off shields, asphalt and brick, shattering glass and tearing into the metal of the truck. Contrary to most action movies, cars don't provide very good protection from bullets. I twisted my head. Elaine, Molly, McCoy, Ana and Chandler had all thrown up shields like mine, though they came in a variety of colours.

Carlos had remained standing. He created a G-bad, and had picked out where the shooters were in a blink of an eye. While the rest of us were cowering, he calmly pulled a grenade from his webvest, closed his eyes, muttered to himself, then lobbed it unnaturally far, to the roof of a two-storey Laundromat/tenement. The shooting stopped.

The explosion wasn't huge, but it was _loud_. The echo died away unnaturally quickly.

Taking advantage of the situation, I hopped to my feet to get a look around, before saying anything. Luccio beat me to it: "Fall back!" she shouted.

I looked at her. "Fall back to where?"

"Yeah," Molly said, "We're literally up against a wall here."

"The direction we were going – that way!" She pointed down the road toward the shelter, now only about two blocks away. Then she was moving, all but dragging McCoy, Chandler at her side.

"Move it, Hoss! Everyone, now!" I could argue with my boss, but not my grandfather.

"You heard him," I said. I grabbed Elaine's shoulder and started pushing her down the street. Then I grabbed Molly and did the same thing. Mouse and the Alphas followed her. The others started moving in spite of themselves, Lara heaving Thomas along by his collar. Gun shots started ringing out again, but they weren't concentrated. I ducked my head, then got moving myself.

Carlos got beside me as we ran. Sanya and Fix brought up the rear.

"Nice work," I said.

"It's what they pay me for," he said. "I'm glad it worked – for a minute there, I wasn't sure…" He trailed off. His confidence had been taken, or at least drained a bit.

Damn Hell.

Literally.

Something caught my eye. Once again, I saw a blur out of the corner of my eye, a little ahead and to the left. Beside Elaine. Beside Mouse. Without thinking, I threw up a shield and extended it forward.

Once again, nothing hit it, and hit it hard. I felt the impact right up my arm, and was thrown off balance, grunting in shock. Carlos caught me, kept me upright and moving.

"What was that?" I heard Fix ask from behind.

"Different vampire!" Sanya answered.

And it clicked, though it probably should have five minutes earlier. The vamps that were invisible weren't Black Court.

"Jades," I said. "Jade Court vampires!"

I saw McCoy's head snap around. "What?"

"Jades! Keep moving!"

"Wait," Carlos said beside me, "What are we - "

"Shit! Move!" I shouted, grabbing his arm. "Keep going! Run!"

I saw everyone who was running keep stumbling, like they had forgotten that they were moving, and had to keep egging them on. Jades are fast. Just like the White Court, they feed psychically, but rather than emotions, they absorb memories. They're so good at it, that they can do it _while the memories are forming_, essentially keeping a person from understanding what's going on, or even noticing that time is passing.

They're also masterful veil-casters, more powerful and more natural than Molly. Being invisible and erasing people's memories has kept them safe and secret for centuries. Having Lash keeps me safe now.

I had to keep shouting at everyone, as, one by one, they all stumbled or fell, forgetting where they were and what they were doing. Billy, Georgia and Mouse didn't seem to be affected, helping to keep people standing, but I saw Thomas and Lara both fall, limp, to the ground. Carlos and I skidded to a stop beside Elaine and Molly.

"Help me," I said quickly.

"What? Harry? What's - ?"

"Just help me, Molly!"

"Right, okay. Just calm… just… Why is Thomas on the ground?"

Just for the record, the Jade Court is, by far, the most annoying Court of vampires there is.

I heard Mouse growl, and spun, arm up, ramming power into my shield, throwing up just past my dog's nose. This time, there was no impact; I saw the vamp. It was Black Court, as the torn clothes and sharp teeth indicated. It had been a man, not long ago, a young one. His skin hadn't yet started to decay or take on that sunken look they get.

It grinned at me, and I really wanted to take a step back. Or maybe a few steps. I glanced left and right. There were more of them. I risked moving my head. Then I turned in a half-circle one way, then the other. We were surrounded.

And everyone but me and my four-legged companions was just standing there, or lying there, in the case of Thomas and Lara, empty-faced, glassy-eyed and swaying on their feet.

Terrific.

"Guys? Carlos?" I waved a hand in front of his face. His eyes followed the motion, but when I stopped, they went back to looking at nothing.

_Well, this is bad. I can't protect everyone and take out the vamps by myself. I need at least one of them to come out of it. Lash? Any suggestions?_

_Perhaps… Forgive me. The Jades are attempting to feed, and blocking them is distracting, to say the least. I have to intervene in the memory-creation process… Your communication spell with Elaine; It may move faster than their memory-absorbing abilities._

_Yes! But it takes a second to establish. _I looked around_. Why are the vampires just standing there?_

_If they wanted to kill you, they would be attacking._

_Yeah, which means…_

I dropped my shield, mostly because it took a fair bit power to hold it up. "Alright, what do you want?" I asked the vampire closest to me.

Mouse, Will and Georgia stood at my side, staring down the vamp with bared teeth and low growls. As had happened yesterday – stars and stones, I was suddenly tired – the vamp opened its mouth and spoke with the voice of its master. "Wizard. You were warned. And you failed to heed me."

"And I told you, a long time ago, what I would do if you came back into my life. I told you how much power I could pick up, and how dead you'd be after." As I was talking, I was forming an image of Elaine in my mind. Splitting concentration isn't easy, but when you spend a couple of your formative years practising, you pick it up.

"The power you can harness is miniscule next to the forces you are now dealing with."

I laughed. "What, you the Secret Society?"

"No," it said slowly. "Not us."

I actually got a chill.

"Then what are you talking about?"

"I doubt you could comprehend."

"That a fact?" Instead of another chill, I felt a laugh bubbling up; I was pretty sure she was talking about the Outside. "Well, try me. I'm a pretty quick student." My mental image of Elaine was almost complete. I glanced at her, over my right shoulder. She was still gazing at nothing.

Then I looked over my left shoulder, just so it wouldn't seem suspicious. I would have to hit her with the spell, and tell what to do quickly, or the Jade holding her mind in stasis would hear what I was saying. I'd only get one shot, basically. "Something tells me, that whatever's going on, you don't have a full grasp of it, either."

The voice hesitated. "The powers of the Outside flood in, overwhelming and unmaking. And those who do understand such, the Summer Queen for example, wish only for your head. I wish to know why."

I froze. Mavra didn't know about my birth circumstances, and my supposed 'Power' over Outsiders?

Interesting. The Circle's members weren't sharing nicely.

"Why? Well, what can I say?" _Elaine. Elaine! Hear me!_ "Everyone wants to kill me. It's hardly something new." _Elaine Mallory! Can you hear me?_ "Well, except for Cowl, of course."

The vamp's head twitched to the side. "Cowl?"

"Yeah. I had a run in with his apprentice. She said he doesn't want me dead. Seemed strange, for a necromancer." _Elaine!_

_Harry? _ Her mental voice was weak and distracted, but it was there.

_Lightning! Lightning, Elaine, now! Now! Lightning!_

_What are you - ?_

_Now, godammit, now! Please!_

I didn't have time to stop and listen or look to make sure she was doing it. Throughout my life, I've learned a few hard lessons, one of the most important being: Given the choice between action and nothing, fucking _do_ _something!_

I dropped my staff and brought my left arm up over my head, drawing in magic with my breath, and touching Soulfire in my mind. I shaped a dome-like shield with my will, and brought it into being with a whisper of, "_Reflittum_!"

At the same instant, Elaine shouted, "_Fulminaris!_"

Lightning exploded mere feet from us.

Vampires burned and blew backwards through the air. I was knocked off my feet, landing face-down. But as I fell, I saw the blurs of disrupted veils. My shield had kept the heat and most of the noise of the strike off of us, but not all of the raw, concussive force.

Everything was quiet for a long moment. My ears rang a bit. A shake of the head cleared it.

From behind me, I heard Thomas, his voice strained. "Harry? What the hell - ?"

"Get up! Everyone, we have to move while we can!" I grabbed my staff and pushed myself up. Everyone was moving, trying to stand or helping someone else. "Let's go, folks, memory-eaters abound!" Mouse and the Alphas nudged a few stragglers to their feet. "Come on, the way is open… for the moment."

"Hoss, what happened?"

"I'll explain later, when you'll remember."

I watched Lara pull Thomas up. She gave him a concerned look, deep into his eyes, which were glassy and flecked with silver. She glanced at me.

"Thomas, give me your hand," I said.

"Harry, that's not a good - "

"Now. Please, just trust me," I added in a whisper.

He gritted his teeth and held his left hand out without looking at me. Lara watched us both carefully with a raised eyebrow.

I took my brother's hand and pushed a little Soulfire into it. He inhaled, sharply. I held him for a three-count. He opened his eyes, slowly. He looked at me, and the silver was gone. I let go.

He took a deep breath, blinked. Nodded at me.

I nodded back.

Lara looked at Thomas' eyes herself, then at me. She looked me up and down, smirked a tiny, sexy smirk, made a '_hmmph'_ sound, then nodded to herself, and started dragging Thomas along.

I turned to Elaine, who had pulled herself to her feet. "Something just exploded," she said. For some reason, her voice was suspicious, as though she were blaming me, of all people.

"Yeah, you just incinerated a dozen vampires, including a few Jades," I said.

We looked around; most of the vamps were now charred smudges. "Well, how about that," she said. "Go me."

Once everyone was up again, I stayed at the back, as we headed for the shelter. I ran, staff in one hand, bracelet out on the other, eyes restless. Nothing else seemed to want to get in our way, though. Thomas and Lara went first, dashing unnaturally fast, leaving the rest of us behind. Considering how hungry Thomas must have been, I was glad.

For a minute, I deluded myself into thinking we might make it the rest of the way without a problem; then, half a block from our destination, the mist started pouring into the street. From every crack, every broken window, every alley, over all the roofs and out of the sewers.

In mere seconds, we were waist-deep in fog, and it kept coming.

Everyone stopped. It wasn't terribly thick, but the further from us the mist was, the denser it seemed to be. When I looked for them, Thomas and Lara had vanished into the haze. "Thomas!" I called. My voice sounded dead, hollow. I heard a growl beside me and realised Mouse was at my heel. He was peering into the deepening darkness and didn't like what he saw.

I got no response from my brother. I started forward to find him.

"Hold up, Hoss." McCoy put a hand out to stop me.

"Sir, I - "

"She wants us running off, Harry," Ana said. "Getting separated. Can we try wind?"

"Doubt it'll work, but give it a shot," McCoy said.

Ana looked at me, and I nodded. We both lifted a hand.

She murmured something that sounded like, "_Ventari_," which I don't _think_ is a real word.

I drew in my will and said, "_Ventas servitas_."

Air began to move, and the fog was dragged along with it, like smoke in front of a fan. And it kept moving. And kept moving.

After a moment, it felt like I was standing in a white subway tunnel, watching graffiti-covered walls whipping by. A glance back showed more of the same; the mist wasn't thinning. Ana and I shared another look, and dropped our hands, giving it up as a bad job.

"Well," I said, "so much for plan A. Everyone still thinking? Able to move?"

"_Da_," Sanya said. He was squinting into the invisible distance. _Esperacchius_ was in his hands, giving off a soft glow. "Something is moving out there. Can feel it."

I stopped, closed my eyes for a second, and reached out with my arcane senses. He was right; something ethereal was lurking in the mist. Something that sent a chill up my spine. Vampires, probably Black Court.

I pulled my pentacle necklace off and wrapped the cord around my left hand, willing it to light. The glow the thin metal began to give off was soon joined by Chandler and Elaine's foci. The mist reflected most of it back at us, thickening it.

"Put'em out," McCoy ordered. "They're not helping." We did as we were told, since he was right. I hooked the necklace back around my neck.

"I'm all turned around," Fix said. "Which way is the shelter?"

"Uh," I said wisely. I studied the road until I found a yellow line to orient myself with. Standing on the line, I pointed. "That way, on the left side of the road. About 100 yards down. I think."

"Alright," McCoy said. "Give me a second." He fished a piece of chalk out of a pocket, and drew a quick circle around himself.

Ana and Chandler moved to his sides while he closed his eyes in concentration. Carlos and Molly moved closer to me. "What do you think he's doing?" Carlos asked.

"Whatever it is, it'll help," I said. "McCoy knows his stuff. And he knows how to fight vampires."

"I just hope we don't run into any Renfields," Molly said quietly.

"Renfields?" Fix asked.

Elaine answered him without looking, a length of chain in her hand swinging back and forth. "Black Court can enthral easily, and if freed, those people can usually recover. But Renfields…" She shook her head. "They're broken. Mentally. Completely unable to think for themselves, they become nothing more than an extension of their masters' will. They can't be saved."

"Oh." He looked really uncomfortable. The whole idea probably struck a little close to home.

I heard McCoy take a deep breath, and turned back to him. He smudged the chalk line with his foot, and as he breathed out, the fog moved away from him, inch by inch, foot by foot. He breathed out a bit longer than I would have thought normal, but then, he wasn't a normal wizard.

The mist pushed back from him, and since it was moving in every direction, more mist couldn't flow in to replace it. When he finally stopped pushing, there was a thirty-foot-across dome of clear air centred on him. Everyone stepped closer to stay well within the clear spot.

"Alright. Harry, lead the way."

"Yes, sir." I took the lead, one step at a time, eyes peeled, shield up. I kept seeing hints of movement, a dark or pale splotch of skin or clothing, dashing away just as the leading edge of our bubble got close. Or I might have been seeing nothing at all.

After a stretch of time, which felt like both a couple of hours and barely a few seconds, the curb of the sidewalk appeared. A day or a minute later, the door to the shelter popped into our bubble. The heavy metal door was open, just a crack. Beyond, there was a weak, flickering orange light, like fire.

"Okay," I said. "Glad that isn't contrived to look super creepy or anything."

From behind me, only a bark.

I turned. "Will? What's - ?" Everyone was standing, once again, glassy-eyed, except for Will, Georgia and Mouse. "Oh, no, no, no, not again. Hey! Hey, wake up!" I waved my hand in front of four different faces and shook two people before I realised it wasn't doing any good.

"Dammit." I turned to the fog. "Show yourselves! Come on, where are you? Stop being cowards and face me!"

When I glanced down, I saw the bubble was vanishing. "Oh, crap." I shoved power into my shield bracelet as the mist rolled over me, bracing myself between the group and the darkness. "Guys, can you get them inside?"

Georgia looked at me, and shook her head.

"Well, change back."

She shook her head again.

"No? What do you - ? No, wait, you're right. You'll be stuck, too. Okay, okay, what next, Harry? What do you do now?" Over my shoulder, the door swung open. It creaked, of course. "Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me. I mean, seriously?"

I turned, saw the flames inside flare, and I had a moment's flashback to watching my house burn down a few weeks ago. I blinked it away. It was kind of obvious what I was supposed to do next, but damned if I liked it. I shook my head. "You are serious, aren't you?" I gritted my teeth. With everyone else frozen without being able to think, I only had Mouse and the Alphas. But with the roving vamps I knew were waiting in the fog, someone who could still think had to stay and watch the others.

I sighed. Well, just standing here wasn't helping anyone. "Mavra, you bitch," I murmured to myself. "Alright, dog squad, stay out here, keep an eye on everyone."

I heard a low groan from beside me. I knelt down, put a hand on Mouse's neck, and said, "I know, pal. But almost everyone I care about is out here. You've got to keep them safe."

He huffed, while looking me right in the eye.

"Oh, come on. You don't think I'd charge in there without a plan, do you?"

He looked at the door, then back at me.

"Yeah, okay, maybe I would. And I admit, I'm scared out of my head right now. But it has to be done, right?"

He looked down, then back up, and huffed again.

"I promise, I'll come back. Tell you what; if things get too heavy, I'll use my Universal Plan B: just burn the place down and run like hell."

He opened his jaw in a grin.

"That's what I need to see. So keep an eye. And if you find Thomas, that might be nice, too. And Lara… well, if you've got time. And if they do wake up, you can come get me." I stood up, took another look around into the misty nothingness around me, picked out the stunned faces of my friends, then turned and walked into the building before I could change my mind.

The place was lit by flickering candles. In better times, it would have had half a dozen fluorescent lights on. I poked my left hand in first, leading with a small shield. I nudged the door open the rest of the way with my staff. When nothing jumped out and tried to eat me, I took a step. Then another.

My eyes whipped back and forth; all I saw was dirty, off-white wall, some cheap plastic chairs and a desk behind security glass. The front office area wasn't large; it was more of a check-in. The ceiling was low, made of drop-tile. The windows along the front of the building looked out on nothing, reflecting a few flickers of flame and nothing else. There was a heavy door standing open to the side of the security window. I stepped slowly through it. A couple of desks separated by partitions had been overturned. Some papers and computers decorated the floors. Pamphlets and posters about addiction treatment and job-hunting were everywhere.

There were a few doors at the back leading into offices. The rooms, such as they were, were on the second and third floors; men on two, women on three. I moved as quickly as I dared, around the desks, checking under them, poking into each of the three dark offices. They were empty. There was an elevator, but the door stood open and no light was visible inside or on the call button.

I turned to the only other door accessible from the front office: the stairwell. Last time I was here, Kincaid and Murphy had been with me. Kincaid had kicked that door in on the first try, which as anyone who's actually tried to do so will tell you, is damn near impossible. The damage had been repaired. This time, I tried the knob.

It turned easily. I let it swing open, shield and staff held ready, heart hammering in my chest. Nothing jumped out at me. The landing was small; to the right, stairs went up. To the left, stairs went down. Into the basement. It was there that my left hand had almost been burned right off. Mavra had made creative use of home-made napalm. It was the single major reason I'd gone back and re-taught myself how to make a shield focus, turning the device from a simple physical barrier into –

Son of a bitch. There was a blood trail on the floor. With a glance around, I ducked down, touched a finger to the slightly darker patch of the poorly-lit floor. It came away slick. I pulled off my amulet again, and willed it to light. The trail led up the stairs, and I found myself silently thankful. I glanced back into the basement. A flash of the incident, the image of fire, all-consuming and _so goddamn painful_ ripped through my mind, then was gone.

I actually flinched back. I flexed my hand. It had healed fairly well – especially for something that the specialists had wanted to amputate. It still wasn't very pretty, but it worked, and aside from occasional stiffness, didn't bother me at all anymore.

All the same, I was glad I wasn't going back down there. I stepped into the stairwell, hugging the wall to my right, eyes up at the turn around, where a pair of candles steadily melted. I started walking, one stair at a time.

I followed the steps and the blood trail, which began to grow wider and, eventually, up the walls, until I saw the door that said, 'Employees Only.' It led to the roof.

I saw that the swing arrestor had been yanked from the wall and hung, twisted, against the door. Someone wanted to be able to get up here easily. Knowing I wasn't going to like what I found, put my amulet back around my neck, then gave the lockbar a shove and got my left hand up, ready to bring a shield up in a blink.

It was something out of a 1950s horror movie. The roof wasn't too large. Roughly in its centre, there was a bonfire. The fire itself was made of wood and clothing. An odd cooking smell washed over me, though I didn't recognise it. Around the fire, five naked people knelt, swaying rhythmically and chanting. In the enhanced light, I could see markings etched into the roof, archaic symbols I couldn't quite recognise, and figured I didn't want to.

A little off to the side, their master was standing. Mavra hadn't changed a speck since I'd seen her last… whenever the hell that had been. I'd completely lost track.

She was looking at me. "Wizard," she croaked out.

"Vampire," I answered. I didn't step out of the limited protection the stair alcove gave me. Brick walls might not be much of a barrier to vampires, but it might slow her down if she tried anything.

"Will you stand there, and come no closer? I thought you were here to disrupt me."

"That's the plan. If I get lucky, maybe I'll kill you, too."

"Direct. I will be equally blunt. From that distance, you cannot hope to harm me. And the Transit will be complete shortly." She stretched her face in a disgusting grimace, her approximation of a smile again. "The choice is yours."

I didn't move, though I really wanted to. My muscles and heart were straining with unspent adrenaline. My breathing was quicker than I'd have liked. But I didn't move. I laughed instead. "There's one problem with your logic," I said. "I can fry your Renfields from here." I adjusted the end of my staff ever so slightly, targeting the chanting circle.

"Renfields? Wizard, these are thralls."

My confidence cracked. "Thralls?"

"Renfields are much harder to control for something so subtle as a ritual such as this. Once they completed their tasks, they became fuel." She gestured to the fire. "These, on the other hand," and she made a circular motion, indicating her Hell's Choir, "are simply innocent people." She paused. "You wouldn't kill innocents, would you?"

I ground my teeth as my lips pulled back.

"Of course, once the Transit is complete, they will die anyway. As will everyone cowering in your church."

_Ah, hell. Lash, any advice?_

_Yes._

I expected something practical, like, 'Run away,' or 'Kill them anyway.'

_Move quickly, do not let your shield falter, do not forget your extra weapon, and I will help you in anyway I can._

My lips came back together into a tight smile. _That's my angel._

I stepped out on to the roof…

…And he blindsided me. He came out of nowhere, and caught a part of my shield, otherwise I might have been crushed instantly. I was knocked over on my left side and rolled on to my back. I somehow got my left hand up again and deflected a second, slightly weaker blow.

He was a blur. He wasn't fast, but he was veiled. "Ah, crap," I said.

The veil parted. "Mr. Dresden," the man said in better English than I could speak. He was Asian, smiling, and dressed in what looked like a black and white version of the Dalai Lama's robes. "It is so nice to finally meet you."

"Who the hell are you?" I asked. It was instinctual; I already knew who he was. It was kind of obvious.

"My name is Kai Taira," he said. "And I am the King of the Jade Court."

I glanced at Mavra, who was watching, but hadn't moved. I stumbled back as I got to my feet. All I could think of to say was, "Yamohito Hai was the Jade King."

He shook his head. "Not exactly." He took a few steps to his right, forcing me to my right. He continued to walk slowly, and I kept moving to counter him. "The position of King was shared among several of us."

I barked out a laugh. "Murphy was right. You guys rotated. Kingship, public face, everything… no one ever knew who you really were, or who was really in power."

"The Jade Court understand the importance of secrecy, above all other things. It is as much a natural defence for us as our veils. So, naturally, to come across a human who is immune to us, grants us some… consternation."

"I can only imagine."

"After your encounter with my sister some years ago, the Court as a whole was, shall we say, concerned."

"Kitoro? Sumi Kitoro is your sister?" She was the vampire who had led me to discover Titania was sort-of behind the Black Council. Some time travel had been involved, so it hadn't been my first rodeo with the Jades, but it had been their first encounter with me.

"Yes." His face darkened. "She _was_." He blurred forward and punched my shield, hard.

I felt the shock up my arm and fell back, landing on my left hip. I got my staff pointed in his general direction and snapped, "_Forzare_!" The blast of force should have knocked him back, but he dodged to the side and kept talking.

"Her fear, of you, and what you might teach other mortals, led her into great inner conflict." He dashed forward, around what little barrier I'd been able to get back up, grabbed my right shoulder, and heaved. I flew, past the choir and the bonfire – again, having a strange flash of fire in my mind, a memory of the cottage on Demonreach burning up around me – then I was landing in a tangle near the edge of the roof.

I dropped my staff, bruised a knee, and hit my funny bone trying not to land on my right side.

I tried to get back to my feet and get a shield up, but Taira had veiled himself again. Still unmoving, Mavra stood near the bonfire, watching me with one eye and her choir with the other. Of course. They were thralls; she had to control them.

"Where did he go?" I asked stupidly.

Her eyes met mine for just a second, then she tried to smile again. Taira came out of nowhere and grabbed me, one arm around my shoulders on the outside of my duster, the other inside, so that his arms didn't touch. I cried out in surprise and not a little bit of pain. He was smart; I'd added a few repulsion runes to the leather a few months back, and anyone who grabbed me around my jacket would have been thrown off if their limbs touched. It had happened to Kitoro; she must have told him.

"And then," he said as he pinned my arms down, "you and the Hellhound defeated Yamohito, and Akira. She could not take the fear, nor the shame of failing me. She took her own life. I was only thankful that Akira was not alive to see it." He lifted me up and dangled me over the side of the building, where thick fog obscured the street below. It had happened so quickly… how the hell was I supposed to get out of this?

"Yamohito had never believed that you could be immune to us, but again, your memories were safe. Now, the truth is wizard, that I can see your memories. I can call them forth…"

_Harry, I cannot stop him!_

I was suddenly in the basement again, fire crawling all over me, devouring my hand…

Then I was back.

"…though, I cannot take them, I can see them. It is curious." He switched his grip with a flourish, tossing me a little into the air, then he had me by the scruff of my shirt with one hand.

_Harry, he's so much stronger than the others…_

"The Queen of the Black Court promised you to me. She says you don't much care for flame."

And I was surrounded by flames, and in so much pain… it was happening so slowly. Wasn't it supposed to be faster than this? The pain was dragging… I started to scream.

A voice, distant, said, "Feed him to the fire."

I was moving, though I was still standing in the basement, screaming in pain and fear…

Another image. That day, that same day, that same exact _time_. Two of Mavra's Renfields, toasting me alive with their improvised flamethrowers… Kincaid telling me they needed ten seconds to disarm an anti-personnel mine rigged up behind us… Then what I had been seeing, the fire, and the pain (Oh, God, _the pain_)… Then the windstorm I'd called up, throwing the fire back the way it had come, and the pain settling in again, I was blinded…

Except, I hadn't truly been blind – my brain had just been so focused on the pain that it had refused any other input. I didn't remember it consciously, but I had seen Murphy running to me, fear in her eyes… and something else? Something more than fear, something…

I snapped back to the present. I was above Taira; he was holding me over his head, about to toss me on the bonfire. His eyes snapped to mine. I didn't have time to think, I just pointed a hand at him and shouted, "_Fuego_!"

He recoiled, his robes on fire. He dropped me, and I rolled in midair to land as carefully as I could, feet and hands first. I changed a look at Mavra, who was now alternately looking at me, and back at her thralls. She had to concentrate to keep them working the Transit spell. Maybe she'd stay off my back while I dealt with the burning monk.

I turned back to Taira, who was pulling his robes off. His skin had hardly been touched, except for his face, which had reddened. It healed even as I watched. He looked at me. I looked around quickly for my staff, but it was beside him. His teeth came out, and he vanished from sight.

In a slight panic, I threw all my fear and anger and a little Soulfire into my hands. "_Pyrofuego_!" Fire, red and white and hot all over, erupted from me in a semi-circular arc, smashing down into the roof and cracking it. A screaming human-shaped thing came dashing through it. He was so used to his veil protecting him, that he didn't even try to go around and get me from behind.

Now, the interesting thing about Soulfire is its creative properties. It grants any spell conjured with it greater strength and longevity than it would otherwise have; but it also enhances the _intent_ of a spell. Taira's mad dash into fire seared his skin. Normally, that would have been the end of it, and he would have been through. But the Soulfire made the fire cling to him.

Not unlike napalm.

He flailed around, screaming, and I threw myself to the side, narrowly avoiding his burning limbs. He screamed like Chauncey had screamed, high and unnatural. I lay there a minute, exhausted and breathing heavily, watching him die. His skin burned away faster than he could grow it back. He tried to stop, drop and roll it, but Soulfire doesn't extinguish easy. He made a desperate grab for me, but my shield was already up, fuelled by determination and anger; he bounced off. He stumbled for another moment, then weaved right into the circle of the bonfire and fell in.

The big problem with fire that strong is that it catches easily. A glance told me I'd accidentally burned right through the roof and down into the third floor, which was now starting to catch. Whoops.

I rolled on to my back, and saw Mavra looking at me again. Her eyes narrowed. I heaved myself to my feet, took a few breaths and said, "You're next."

She moved faster than Taira did. One second, I was saying 'next,' and the same second I was flying through the air, courtesy of her backhand. I came down near my staff. The air was driven from my lungs, and I bounced my head off the roof at least once. I saw stars and lost feeling in my left arm for a second. My vision came back, and my finger woke to pins and needles.

I saw her standing over me. "Humans," she said. And with such disdain. You'd think she didn't like us. I turned my head, and reached for my staff with my left hand. My right hand, I slid into my pocket.

She brought her foot down on my staff, and it snapped into half a dozen pieces. I flinched back. Her left hand came down and she grabbed me by the neck. I got my left hand around her wrist as she pulled me up, to my knees, my feet, higher.

"You have failed, Dresden. All you have done is eliminate another competitor for me. And the Transit completes in mere minutes."

I wheezed something at her, and smiled.

She tilted her head and loosened her grip. "What?"

"I said," I whispered, "that one of your children fell victim to this a few years ago. I'm surprised you did, too."

"What are you talking about?"

I pulled out my right hand, a small water balloon gripped in it. "This." I grabbed her wrist with both hands, and squeezed. The balloon ruptured, and holy water, blessed by Father Fraser as I was leaving St. Mary's, spilled all down her arm.

She growled in pain and withdrew her hand, dropping me. I collapsed to my knees again. Holy water is like acid to Black Court vampires, like all other objects of faith. Still angry at the pain of having her hand all but disintegrate, she glared at me. I couldn't help but smile. "Hurts, don't it?" I asked. She took a step toward me. "Aren't they supposed to be singing?" I asked, pointing at the choir.

Behind her, the thrall's voices seemed to fade. She turned, and after three or four seconds, they started chanting again. Then she turned back to me.

And caught another balloon right in the face. She screamed incoherently as her eyes exploded and her face began to disintegrate.

"Ha!" I shouted. "Batter up, motherfucker!"

Lost in rage, blinded, and absolutely intent on killing me, she shrieked and charged. I threw up a shield, but needn't have bothered.

Mouse exploded out of the stairwell and hit her full in the chest. His jaws locked around her neck even as she fell, and with one great yanking motion, he tore her head off. She carried with the momentum even as he landed, rolling over. The body fell through the hole I'd burned in the roof.

Mouse dropped her head, gave a last growl in her general direction, then turned to me, tail wagging. I fell flat on my ass, exhausted. My eyes were starting to water. My hands tingled from the Soulfire use. "Oh, _good boy_." I held my arms out, and he charged right into them, giving me the dog equivalent of a hug. I was completely overcome, and nearly rolled onto my back. I'd just faced down two extremely powerful vampires, and lived. I felt like laughing. I felt like crying. I felt like celebrating. I felt like… like I was about to catch fire.

Molly and Sanya burst out of the door, swords in hand. "Harry!" Molly cried.

"Time to go! Get them!" I pointed at the enthralled people, who had stopped chanting again, and were starting to look around, slowly, dazedly.

Molly and Mouse helped me up while Sanya replaced _Esperacchius_ over his shoulder and went to the thralls. Molly joined him once I was vertical, and they got three people moving under their own power, two women and a man. Sanya took the other man over his shoulder, and Molly got the other woman in a fireman's carry. Leaning heavily on Mouse, I led the way down the stairs as quickly as I could, without letting the freed thralls stop. Smoke was seeping into the stairwell from the third floor door.

As we reached the second floor, one of the women asked in a dreamy voice, "Where are my clothes?"

"Uh, one sec, I'll get you a blanket, or something," I answered.

"Oh, okay," she said.

I pushed on the door to the floor. It didn't budge. So, I backed up against the wall, lifted my hand and shouted, "_Forzare_!" The door blew inward, taking its hinges with it. I ducked into one of the tiny bedrooms. I pulled the sheets, flat and fitted, from the cot, then repeated the process in the next two rooms. I returned to the stairway, wrapped the woman who could almost think first, then sent her down. I wrapped the next two, and held onto the last sheets as I guided them back to the lobby. Finally, Sanya and Molly joined us and I let everyone out into the street.

We walked out into the aftermath of a real light show. Literally; it was brighter out. Sanya, Molly and I helped the thralls to a bus bench, got them all covered, and sat them down.

Sanya placed his man down, then said, "I will be back," and dashed off to who-knew-where, taking Fix with him.

Elaine saw us first. "Harry!" She came over and put a hand on the side of my face. "Are you okay?"

"Surprisingly, yeah. What the hell happened out here?"

"I'm not sure. One minute, we were walking down the street in fog, then I blink, and we're in the middle of a firefight."

I looked around. There were burnt corpses in a roughly circular pattern around the shelter's entrance. Everyone I knew seemed to be alive, if not up and moving. A wolf padded over to me. It shimmered into Billy. I handed him my last sheet. "Everybody woke up at once," he said. "Then those Black Court vamps attacked out of the fog."

I nodded. "Taira. The Jade King – well, the last of the Jade Kings – was up there. He was probably holding everyone down here in stasis. I got lucky and managed to set him on fire. Speaking of which…"

Will followed my gaze up to the shelter's roof. "Uh, won't that spread?"

"Probably."

"I got it, Hoss." McCoy stepped up beside me, his staff resting against his shoulder. He stared at the building for a moment, arms out to his sides. Then he brought them together in one quick motion, closing his fists at the same time. When his knuckles met, there was a 'woof' sound from the roof, and the fire went out.

My eyebrows jumped involuntarily.

"Wow," Will said. "Sucked the oxygen right out of the space. Is that even possible?"

"For an engineer, you ask a lot of ridiculous questions, Bill. You never showed me that one, Sir."

He winked at me. "I don't know what you did up there, but I can feel the change. The Transit is faltering; it's weaker than it was. You delayed it. I mean, look at the sky." We did. Was that a hint of blue I saw? "Where's you staff, boy?"

I glanced at him, then looked up at the roof again. "Burnt to several cinders."

He grunted and handed me his.

I stared at it. "I can't - "

"Don't be an idiot. Take it. I've got another one." He tapped his nose and turned back to what he'd been doing before: taping Chandler's leg, along with Ana. "Sprain an ankle, Steed?" I asked.

"Broken leg, Harry," Luccio said.

I grimaced. "Sorry."

"Hardly," Chandler said. "The lesson here is, just because you're already engaged with two vampires, don't think a third won't try something. But, I'm afraid Warden Ramirez got it worse."

My head snapped around, and I found him with Georgia, who was wearing his jacket, and Molly, bandaging his… stump. "What - ?"

Elaine touched my arm. "He lost his left hand, Harry."

I gave her a stunned look, then stumbled over to my friend. "Carlos?"

"Hey, Dresden." His voice was tight, and his jaw didn't move much; he was in a lot of pain. "Tell me you killed something big."

I kneeled down. "Two somethings. What happened, man?"

"My own damn fault. Threw up a ball to kill one, another one hit me from the side. Didn't even see it coming. My hand just… went right through it."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. All this really means is I'm going to have to start dating more, right?"

I snorted, he laughed, Molly blushed, and Georgia rolled her eyes.

Thomas walked up behind me. "Hey."

I stood. "Hey." I looked into his eyes, then gave him a once-over. "You good?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Turns out, if they're fresh enough, we can feed on Black Court. Just a little."

"Good to know."

"You're telling me." He tilted his head. At the same moment, Mouse perked up his ears, and Lara, who was standing a little too close to, and looking a little too closely at, the freed thralls for my liking, turned. Then I heard a car engine. Everyone tensed, Billy and Georgia put on their good suits, and swords and foci came out.

Two vans came around the corner. They slowed as they got closer, and a big, dark arm came out of a driver's window, waving at us. Sanya pulled up, followed closely by Fix. "Parking garage had these. Easy to hotwire."

I shook my head. "Let's get the hell out of here."


	14. Chapter 14

"Harry."

"Mmmph."

"_Harry_."

"Mmmph?"

"Wake up."

My eyelids pulled apart, very reluctantly. The van's dashboard clock greeted them in brilliant green monochrome. I was curled mostly-comfortably in the van's passenger seat while Fix drove. "Five minutes, Molly? You let me sleep exactly _five minutes_?"

"Harry, I'm sorry. But… there's someone here."

I looked at her, and she was looking through the windshield. I shook my head, mostly clearing it. Fix wasn't in the driver's seat. He was outside, beside the other van, with Ana, Sanya, Thomas and Elaine, talking to a very tall blonde woman.

I checked my pocket for my revolver, then popped my door open and all but fell out of my seat. _Lash, help._

_You won't like it, but… as you wish._

My nerves suddenly caught fire, and I was dunked in a pain tank. I felt like I'd just had acid poured over me, after I'd been subjected to 1000 paper cuts and soaked in lemon juice, then told I had to give a speech naked in front of all my friends and relatives after swallowing an entire box of laxatives.

It hurt like Hell.

Ha. See what I did there?

However, consciousness did come roaring back. I blinked. _Uh, thanks_.

I stepped forward, Molly beside me. The blonde woman turned, crossed her arms, and waited, straight-backed and tense. She looked a bit like Charity, but even more athletic, if that was possible, and younger, though that was just a trick of immortality. "Dresden," she said.

Ms. Gard was the 'security consultant' kept on retainer by John Marcone, Chicago's godfather. I also only had about three inches on her in height, which is strange for me. Nice for my neck, though.

"Hi, Sigrun," I said, using her actual, Old-God-given name. My tone was flippant, as it usually was when dealing with criminals. Even the ones I got on with. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

She looked around. "Everything."

I looked her over; her usually prim business suit was dirty, covered in slash marks and some blood stains. In fact, the left side of her blouse and blazer were almost solid red, though she didn't appear injured. And her hair was a mess.

And her usual partner was missing. "Where's Hendricks?" I asked.

"In the van," Thomas answered. His voice was thick, and he was pointedly not looking that direction.

I craned my neck to look through the van's sliding door, which sat open. Hendricks is a big guy, in the same way that Mouse is a big dog. His legs dangled out of the door at the knees. I stepped around Ana to get a closer look. McCoy was kneeling beside him, a few vials of odd-coloured liquids getting mixed back and forth by the door light while Georgia and Billy tore strips off his shirt and turned them into bandages.

Hendricks was a mess. He was covered in blotchy, bruise-like marks, as though he'd been hit with a baseball bat repeatedly by Maguire and Sosa. One of his ribs on the right side was sticking through the skin, and that was where most of the blood on Gard had likely come from. One of his eyes was swollen shut and the other was going to join it shortly. A large chunk was simply missing from his right thigh. The fingers of his left hand were all obviously broken. But even lying there, barely conscious, his muscles looked like they could beat up my muscles.

I've seen worse, but rarely on anyone I know. Thomas' vampiric instincts would tell him to devour the weak target; he was barely holding himself back. It was pretty obvious Lara had stepped away for the same reason.

"Everything okay, sir?"

"Not sure yet, Hoss. Let me work." He punctuated the sentence by upending a vial into Hendricks' mouth.

I stepped back and turned to Gard. "The hell happened?"

She arched an eyebrow at me. "Do you actually care?"

"Hey, anything that can put Cujo down, I want to know about."

She sniffed and crossed her arms.

"What's with the hostility?"

She looked me in the nose and said a single word. "Marcus."

Whoops. I grinned and scratched the back of my neck. "I'm guessing you pulled collection duty?"

"You put a dozen einharjar at the bottom of Lake Michigan. Retrieving them was not what I would call fun. In fact, it a pain in the ass."

"Hey, you're a Valkyrie. You collect dead warriors from the field as a – well, not for a _living_, but you do it. So don't get high and mighty on me just because you had a bad day at the office."

She took a deep breath, uncrossed her arms, and closed her eyes. When she spoke, she sounded reluctant. "You're right." She looked at me again. "And even I can admit it was an impressive victory."

"So, tell us," I said, hooking a thumb back at Hendricks. "What happened?"

"We were at the Velvet Room."

Ah. Marcone owns a lot of 'legitimate' businesses. I mean, a _lot_. Think of a triple-digit number, double it, and add your age, and you might be getting close to how many pies he has his thumbs in. The Velvet Room was one of his more… popular pies. It was, ostensibly, a gym on the second floor of an office building, the first floor occupied by a mini-mall. There were six other floors above that, filled with legitimate offices, as the building had once been a cheap hotel.

Inside, members were almost entirely middle-aged men of influence in the circles of politics and money. And the trainers were all young, attractive women, and very helpful to middle-aged men of influence.

"Late-night business?"

"Ms. Demeter called. She said there was a problem between one of her girls and one of the clients. Ms. Demeter is very protective of her employees."

"And Marcone is very protective of his interests, I get it. This was the night of the first earthquake?"

"About 40 minutes before the first one, yes. The three of us arrived at the office less than 10 minutes before the quake. The initial problem was easily dealt with – the man wasn't a client, but a guest of a client, who was repentant. He and Mr. Marcone had a conversation. As they were finishing, the building started shaking."

"And you all just stayed there?"

"No. Marcone needed to check on his other assets. He promised Ms. Demeter he would return the following day. After a rather whirlwind tour of Chicago, including a close look at those demonic fires, we got back at five to midnight. And within a few minutes, they were everywhere."

"Who?"

She hesitated. "Many of Mr. Marcone's… former associates."

I felt my mouth and eyes open wide.

Molly asked, "What do you mean, 'former associates'?"

"We're literally in Hell's waiting room, Sigrun," I said. "Kill the euphemisms."

She took a deep breath and looked at Molly. "His dead enemies. They've come back for him."

Behind us, McCoy heaved himself out of the van. He looked at Gard. "He'll live. For now. Tough son of a bitch, but he needs a hospital."

She let out a breath. "Good."

"So," Sanya said, "crime boss is still surrounded by dead enemies?"

"Yes. We fought our way out, to find help. He refused to leave."

"Why would he refuse to leave?" Fix asked.

"The girls," I said. "How many are still there?"

"A dozen," Gard said. "When we left, he had them holed up in one of the… massage rooms." I rolled my eyes. "I have no idea how long he could hold out, but we barely escaped half an hour ago." She looked at me with sad Scandinavian eyes. "I came to find help. And I found you, before any of Marcone's lieutenants."

Everyone looked at me, and I ignored them, putting a hand to my face and rubbing my eyes. I took a couple of breaths. It would almost be poetic justice to leave Marcone to deal with his old mistakes again. All those people he'd killed, out for vengeance…

Except, it wasn't just him, was it? The girls working there were not violent offenders.

_Lash, I might need a few fatigue-suppressing techniques._

_I will help you, but I can only do so much._

_I know._

A second later, I felt some of the weight on my eyelids yielding. A little.

I opened my eyes and looked at Gard, who seemed calm, but was obviously tense to anyone who knew her. "Okay," I said. "Alright. But first things first; we have injured who have to get back to the church, and someone has to go with them to make sure they get there."

On cue, there was a loud, high-pitched roar in the distance.

"Huh," Molly said. "That was eerily well-timed."

I looked down at McCoy. "Sir, I'd obviously prefer to have you with me, but…" I looked at the vans.

"I get it, Hoss. I'll get them back to the church. I'll need someone in the other van, though."

I turned to Molly, and took a breath.

She cut me off. "I'm coming with you, obviously."

"Obviously," I said, smiling. "Fix?"

"Where goes Summer, so goes Winter," he said.

I turned to Elaine next, and opened my mouth. "Not a chance in Hell, literally or otherwise," she said, arms crossed.

I looked at Ana, and sighed. She tilted her head to the side, her face unreadable. "Well, one of the big guns has to go with him, Captain."

She looked at the vans for a moment. Two. Probably thought about Chandler. She didn't look at me. She licked her lips and said, "Alright. But if it looks hopeless, you retreat, and come get help."

I nodded. "Harry?" Billy. "Georgia wants to stay with Hendricks, make sure he holds together."

"And you should probably get back; check on the rest of the pack."

He looked at his wife. "Yeah. Yeah, I should."

I shook his hand. "We'll see you soon, man. Take care of them."

He turned and in a blink, was replaced by a large wolf. "Sanya?"

"I go with you. Is always more fun to attack demons than to wait on guard duty."

"Thomas?"

"Same. I shouldn't be around the wounded, anyway."

"Right. Where'd Lara go?"

"For a walk, as soon as the vans stopped. We start moving, she'll catch up."

"Okay. In that case let's - " I stifled a yawn " – get going."

"Wait," Gard said, "one moment." She twisted and tugged open a small pouch she had tied around her waist. She pulled out a small piece of what looked like slate. She turned to me, and held it out before her, gripped between her thumbs and forefingers of both hands, eyes closed. She murmured under her breath for a few seconds, then snapped the thin little stone in half.

A night's sleep washed over me. The fatigue I'd been mired in was just gone. I didn't need to yawn, my eyes weren't heavy. "Whoa," I said.

"Wow," Elaine said beside me. She'd caught some the effects, too. "That's some good stuff."

"Life rune," Gard said. She looked at the pieces in her hand, then dropped them. "I really need to carve more of those. The effects will last about an hour."

"Then let's get moving." Sigrun turned, grabbed a huge battleaxe from where it leaned against a wall, and started down an alley. I was right behind her.

Getting to the Velvet Room took about fifteen minutes at a light jog, during which Lara appeared out of nowhere beside Thomas. "Where were you?" I asked.

"Meditating," she deadpanned.

"What can we expect?" Fix asked Gard.

"For a start, the Vargassi Family."

"Who?"

"They controlled the organised crime in Chicago before Marcone," I said. We all paused at the mouth of an alleyway before proceeding into the street. Gard led us left. The darkness – the complete lack of artificial light – was creepy as anything. "He started as a minor enforcer with them before his quick climb to the top." We all stopped again when we heard a building collapse in the distance. A dust cloud came up on the southeast horizon, against a marred, black-red-grey background.

We kept moving, a little faster now, and I kept talking, probably due to nerves. "Marcone is ruthless, and brilliant. It didn't take him too long to become one of the favoured lieutenants in the Family, and that earned him the ire of a couple guys whose name actually was Vargassi." I paused. "Within a couple of years, those men had… taken a sabbatical."

"For a mortal," Lara put in, "Marcone is quite capable. And willing to do whatever he feels he must. Honestly, Harry, he reminds me of you."

I gave her a genuine, disgusted look, which she smiled at. "I am _nothing_ like John Marcone."

Gard piped up. "Mr. Marcone has noted the similarity before, himself. You are both men of means and power, though you use it differently, with very strict moral codes."

I barked out a laugh. "Marcone? Moral?"

"He has his rules."

"He only has one rule – no children. And that's only because - " I cut myself off.

"What?" Elaine asked. "Only because of what?"

I sighed. Stupid mouth. "The Vargassi's first attempt at taking him out, a little girl was… in the line of fire."

Gard continued, "Marcone does not allow collateral damage. In Chicago, you either follow his rules…"

"Or you don't get to play the game," I finished.

The whole story behind that little girl was a bit more complicated, but telling everyone the details would have gone against an unspoken agreement between me and Marcone. The girl had gone into a coma, and was essentially brain-dead. The Vargassis had faked her death, hoping to use her if the shooter had been charged with murder, or maybe to pin the blame on Marcone himself. Before that plan could be put in motion, Gentleman Johnny had wiped them out. When he found out about her, he'd had her moved out of state and given the best care possible.

Her name was Amanda Beckitt. Her parents had never recovered, emotionally, spiritually. They had joined up with a man, a minor magic user backed up by the Black Council, named Victor Sells, and his magically-enhanced drug operation to take a bite out of Marcone, who they blamed. A certain foolish wizard had dismantled that operation and sent the Beckitts to prison. When Helen, Amanda's mother got out, she was offered employment with Marcone, who suggested the _nom-de-plume_ Demeter for her.

She didn't know her daughter was alive, and probably had a right to know, but since the whole incident - and everything in her life since – had shaken her sanity, there was a chance that finding out she was still alive would break her. I'd been torn on whether to just tell her myself for a while. Just as I'd been torn on whether to tell Marcone that Helen really, really wanted to get revenge on him.

Honestly, half the world's problems could be solved if people would just talk to each other.

"The Vargassis have spent much time here. They have taken on… demonic aspects."

"Terrific. How many?"

"At least six."

"Okay, who else?" I asked.

Gard smiled. "Some who you are familiar with."

"What do you mean?"

"Mr. Marcone said the name Victor Sells, at one point."

"Ah, hell's bells. Who else?"

"Phil Denton, and his team."

"Seriously? Crap. Shouldn't have let Billy and Georgia go."

"Who is – or, who _was_ – Phil Denton?" Fix asked.

"An FBI agent," I said. "He and his team got some backing from the Black Council: enchanted belts. Let them turn into hexenwulfen."

"What, like the Alphas?"

"No. With the Alphas, the magic is part of them; they keep their human minds and sense of identity when they transform. Hexenwulfen become subsumed in the power of the wolf totem." I shook my head, thinking about the brief minutes I'd worn one of the belts myself. "You lose yourself. Lose your conscience. You become less than a person, less than a beast; you become a monster."

Fix nodded uncomfortably.

"Quite literally," Gard said. "Their bodies have… changed."

"Changed how?"

She looked me in the nose. "How do you think?" Eyes forward. "There may be others. I don't know."

Up ahead, I saw something that caught my eye, but I wasn't sure why. There was no particular detail standing out. The surfaces of the buildings were mostly the same, there didn't appear to be any nasty beasties waiting for us in the alleys or on the rooftops. The shadows were –

Shadows. There was _light_ up ahead, around the corner. _Artificial_ light. I slowed, as did Gard. Everyone else followed suit.

"Lights?" I asked.

She nodded. "I don't know what they're doing, but the building's power is back on. Though it is… odd."

"Odd?"

"The lights, the heat, the air conditioning; they aren't behaving as they should." We came to the corner, and paused. Everyone took quick turns poking their heads just a little way around the corner, just far enough to see the building that housed the Velvet Room. My turn came, and I looked with Mouse. He let out a low growl. The building stood across the road, between a fenced-off vacant lot, nearer to us, and a parking lot, further away. And the lights in the windows were multi-coloured.

Fierce red, sickly green, searing yellow. The glares coming out of the windows on all four floors were flaring and waning randomly. It was nauseating. The backlit signs for the various fast food places and offices seemed to have melted, exposing pulsing, seizure inducing lights. They weren't the only things that had changed.

Tearing my eyes off the rainbow of the damned, I looked around. There were three – no, four – large, slowly-moving shadows surrounding the building, slowly patrolling. I squinted a bit.

They could only generously be called wolves. They were enormous, canine-like shapes, but twisted and distorted. The limbs were uneven, the jaws so full of teeth they couldn't close properly. The muscles were so huge and disproportionate that the bodies gave the impression of cartoon body-builders. And the paws looked more like claws.

"Terrific," I muttered, pulling back. "The Wolf-B-I are on patrol."

"Demon wolves. Nice. How do we get past them?" Thomas asked.

"I'm open to suggestions."

"Simply charging is suicidal," Lara said. She crossed her arms, indicating that line of thought was closed.

"Very true," I said. "That would be the dumbest possible thing we could do."

"Stars above, Harry," Elaine cursed.

"What? We're short on time. Whatever we bought ourselves by killing Mavra and Taira is burning up, fast. We need to get in there."

"So, 'Charge of the Light Brigade' is your solution?"

"They wouldn't be expecting it."

"That," Sanya piped up, "is because it is stupid." The he grinned. "I love it."

"Cool," I said. "You're with me, then."

"_Da_."

"With you?" Elaine took a step closer. "Harry, what are you – those are _demons_. And we're not in the real world. Not completely. You don't know what they're capable of!"

"Good point. You're with me, too."

"I what?"

"Seriously. Marcone's not alone in there. There are a dozen young women with him, none of whom are as capable as he is. Do you want it any other way?"

She paused a moment, letting anger wash over her. She took a deep breath. I saw her make a pair of fists, and knew I had her.

She spoke softly. "I'm coming in." She drew a pair of wands from leather holsters on her hips.

"Okay. Mouse?"

He huffed in the affirmative.

"Knew I could count on you. Sigrun, you'll be in the lead. The rest of you - "

"Harry," Molly said. "I have to come."

I gave a small sigh. "I know. Okay, the _rest_ of you," I said, pointedly looking at Thomas and Fix, "please keep the Fucked-up Bureau of Insanity off us?"

Thomas glanced at his sister, who was shaking her head, but looking at me. "So bold," she muttered. "Yes. We'll watch the outside."

Thomas looked at me and nodded, pulling out an oversized handgun from I-didn't-want-to-know-where. Fix drew his sword. Lara simply cracked her knuckles.

"Okay. You three on point. Gard and me right behind you. Then Elaine. The rest of you, bring up the rear."

"I take it you want me to open the door?" Elaine asked.

"Exactly."

"Open the door?" Fix asked. He was checking a shotgun that he'd had over his non-sword shoulder.

Everyone looked at him. "You didn't notice that the door was missing? Sealed over?"

"Uh, no." He had the good grace to look embarrassed. "I guess I was a little distracted but the Pink Floyd show."

I shrugged and Molly shook her head. We exchanged a look that said, _Amateur_.

"Alright, everybody ready?"

Everyone tensed, weapons ready. I hoisted my borrowed staff, took three quick breaths, then said, quietly, "Half a league, half a league." Then I shouted, "Forward!"

We all started at the same time, but Thomas and Lara were ten steps ahead in less than two seconds.

The demon wolves and their garish faces locked onto us before I'd finished saying 'forward.' All four of the insults to wolf-kind charged us, mouths frothing, muscles bulging, skin tearing. I drew in my will, and started to form a shield.

Thomas waited until the lead wolf – with redder fur than the others - got close, then emptied an entire clip into its head at point blank range. The demon that had once been a man fell, and instantly began to liquefy. Two of the other three just kept coming, oblivious.

In life, they had all been perilously close to losing their minds to the power of the totems; in death, it seemed, they hadn't recovered.

The next wolf, heavier-set than the others, with more grey in its crusty, diseased fur, charged in blindly. Lara and Mouse both threw themselves at it, Lara landing on its back with an arm around its neck, Mouse ripping at the joints on its front legs. I could safely count that one out.

Fix and Gard started swinging at the smallest wolf, but it dodged them, almost – but not quite – gracefully. There was far too much wildness and jerkiness to its motions.

I turned to the last wolf-thing, the one that had held back. This one was much more cautious. Its face wasn't quite so deformed, its jaw almost able to close. In fact, it still had a vestige of humanity to it. "Hiya, Phil," I said. The wolf stopped in its tracks. His head tilted to the side, eyes wide, and lips peeling back. He recognized me. "Been a few years, huh? How you been?"

He started to growl, and I assumed he hadn't been well.

"Yeah, me too. _Fuego!_" I threw my anxiety and bone-deep fear into my fire, and tossed it at him. Without my blasting rod, it spread out, unfocused, just like on the roof of the shelter. It was my equivalent of a blast of birdshot.

He moved like the Flash. He dashed off to the side, across the street and my flames never touched him.

Behind me, I heard Elaine shout, "_Fulminaris!_"

There was an explosion. A light wave of pressure buffeted me from behind. I lost Denton in the movement, and when I looked for him, he was gone. "Oh, no." I turned and ran for the Velvet Room.

The opening Elaine had ripped open was already starting to close. The edges of the hole were blood red, maybe even actual blood red. Goopy strings of sinewy metal and mortar were flowing, connecting… _healing_. The wall itself had been turned into a mockery of life. And a gross one at that.

"Get in!" Thomas shouted. He had somehow produced another large handgun and now looked like a gangster extra in a John Woo movie. "If we see the other two, we'll put them down! Now hurry!"

Elaine and Gard had already thrown themselves through the opening, into a vestibule that looked like a cow had exploded in it. Sanya joined them. Lara and Fix joined Thomas as Molly hopped through the rapidly-shrinking hole. "Come on Mouse!"

The big dog and I both jumped. I hit the floor and rolled onto my back, my staff clattering away. I turned back to the hole just before it closed. I saw Thomas looking at me. "Good luck!" he shouted, then we were sealed off.

Molly helped me up. The one-time entry way looked like a whale's throat – coated in red and black muck, all of it soft and a little runny, mostly concentrated in the corners. "Delightful," I said.

"It gets worse," Gard said, her voice flat. She led the way forward, battleaxe at the ready, through a smashed second set of doors out into the open area of the first floor. There were various shops under a 12-foot high ceiling, with a small seating area in the middle, with half a dozen eight-foot high oak trees evenly spaced in a rectangular pattern, and public washrooms at the far end. It wasn't a bad little shopping space. Normally.

The whole space looked like Hannibal Lecter and Freddy Krueger had done the interior decorating. It was covered in redish-black goop, just like the entry way. Pieces of bone and entrails were lying – or worse, hanging – everywhere. The steel security gates had all been ripped down and twisted, shattered to bits and bars. There wasn't a pane of glass left intact anywhere. The trees were dead, ages-dead, like the life itself had been sucked out of them. And maybe it had. The lights were on, but damned if they didn't seem to be pulsing in time to my heartbeat.

"Where are the stairs?" I asked.

"Far end, by the bathrooms."

"Alright, slowly." We moved, one step at a time, through the strobe-lit seating area, around tables, staying away from the doors, counters and blind corners. It was when we were just about dead centre of the room that they came at us; two monstrous, ugly demons. The hairs on the back of neck tingled, and I threw up my shield without looking.

They basically exploded out of a candle shop and a sushi place, pulling debris with them.

At first glance, they reminded me a bit of Red Court vampires; their skin was mostly black, but cracked and torn, showing blood and sinew and muscle beneath. Their eyes were sunken, blackened, almost vanishing within their skulls. But they wore uneven, asymmetrical armour, forged from metal I couldn't identify. They had no distended stomachs, but massive muscles beneath their armour. Horns. Heavy, ugly, spiky boots. Large, spiked maces in hand.

I didn't see anything else before the first one bounced off a quarter-dome of my will, smashing backwards through the sushi counter. Some of the soy sauce caught in its wake flew over and landed on me. I turned; Elaine had blocked the other one, though it was still on its feet. Sanya and Mouse had her back.

Molly and Gard flanked me. "The Vargassis," Gard said.

"These?" I asked. The beastie recovered, tossing small shelving and pieces of metal aside. For good measure, it flared out a pair of wings I hadn't seen before, and hopped to its feet. Then it opened its mouth and growled; the mouth cavity was red and fiery, and steam came out.

"Yes," she said, axe at her shoulder. "_These_."

"Huh. How… stereotypical."

"They're kind of biblical," Molly said, disbelief in her voice. Nonetheless, she lifted her sword and stared the thing down. A glance over my shoulder showed me a similar scene with Elaine in the middle.

As I was turning my head back, they both struck again, screaming their steam-engine screams, crashing into the wizards in their ways with the full force of a small freight train. My shield held; I didn't. I reeled backwards, stumbled into a chair and fell over it. I saw Elaine stumbling back, but keeping her feet. I heard Gard grunting in a very un-ladylike way.

I struggled to my feet, brought my staff up. Sanya had one of the Vargassi demons held at bay with Esperacchius while Mouse circled around; Molly and Gard were staying out of the other one's range. Elaine let loose a blast of force with a cry I didn't understand, smashing the one that had knocked me over back into the sushi place again.

As it landed in a soda machine, I took a step forward for a better line of sight, and Gard stepped in to bring her axe down. As she did, the demon's mace came up, taking her full in her left side. The spikes must have each been at least 4 inches long, and I saw three of them go in.

"No!" Molly shouted before I could. I blanked out for a second, remembering only red panic. When I blinked, Gard was down, Molly's sword was smoking, the demon's right arm had been severed, and my revolver, which I'd almost forgotten I brought, was in my hand. The demon's face was a bloody, pulpy mass, and it wasn't moving.

I looked at the other fight; Sanya's Sword and Mouse were both glowing with a strong, bright light, and what was left of the demon was writhing in pain between them. I'd probably missed a good one. Elaine was already kneeling beside Gard. I took a step towards them, heard the demon move, turned back and emptied two more chambers into its head. It stopped moving.

I turned back to Gard, Molly stepping past me to kneel at her side. The Valkyrie's breathing wasn't strong. The bloodstains on her clothes had grown. The head of the mace was still buried in her side. Elaine was fishing through a couple of vials in a pouch. "Sigrun?" I asked. I didn't hold out much hope for an answer, but I'd seen her get through pretty awful injuries before.

Her eyes fluttered open. "Ow," she through clenched teeth. She looked down at the mace. "This hasn't happened in a very long time."

"Once. A long time ago."

"Will you survive?"

"Oh, probably. My employer says pain is good for you. Builds character."

"Here," Elaine said. "McCoy gave me this. He said it will speed up the healing process a bit." She up ended the vial into Gard's mouth. "I'm afraid to take that thing out, though."

"Leave it. I'll work it out myself."

"It's the size of a basketball. And those spikes went in deep."

"I'll work it out slowly." She looked at me. "You have to keep going."

"We can't leave you here alone. You said there were six of those things." I heard a squishy, crunchy sound from where Santa was standing. Mouse had just crushed the head of the other demon with his jaw. "And there are still four left."

"I will stay," Sanya said. He kicked the remains of the demon just to be sure, then patted Mouse on the head.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"These three will not be separated from you," he said, tilting his head in turn to Mouse, Molly and Elaine. "And you will not leave her alone. I am… less attached." Now he tilted at the stairs. "Go. Others still need you."

I hated leaving a wounded person behind, but the other option – just staying where we were – appealed even less. Besides, if the Knight of Hope couldn't protect her, what chance did I have? "All right. We'll be as fast as we can. Sigrun, where would Marcone most likely be?"

She groaned, then said in short sentences, "There's a storage room. Heavy steel door. Reinforced walls. Far end." She gestured weakly to the other end of the building. "He keeps weapons. It's the safest place he could go. If not… they could be anywhere in the offices above."

"Great. Okay, let's go."

The stairway was just as bad as the first floor. All the corners had been rounded out with a collection of muck, some of it still flowing. The stairs themselves were the steep, narrow variety, bereft of carpet or anything like comforting like that, two half-flights to each floor. The bigger problem was the lack of light. There were only emergency lights burning in here, casting everything with a red hue, emphasizing the feeling that the Hellgoop was alive.

I took the lead, Mouse at my heel. I went up four stairs, enough to see the landing above us, and waved Elaine up. She and Mouse took the steps two at a time, and spun into a crouch, wands levelled at the door to the second floor.

I got past her and took the stairs backwards, staying out of Elaine's firing line by hugging the rather gross and slick wall, staff aimed at the steps coming down from the third floor. When I was on the landing, next to the door, I nodded at Elaine, and she waved Molly up.

"Okay," I whispered. "Veil, then open the door. All clear, open up. See anything that wants to kill us, close it."

"Got it," she said softly back. She took a breath, put her hand on the knob, and vanished. A second later, the knob slowly twisted, and the door pulled itself open quietly, just a couple of inches. It stayed that way, and I stayed next to it, not daring to move, hardly breathing, eyes on the next landing up.

The door didn't shut, and Molly slid back into the visible spectrum. "Clear," she whispered. I gave Elaine a thumbs-up, and she and Mouse moved up behind the Invisible Woman. They went through the door, Mouse first, his teeth bared. I went though last.

"Uh, Harry, it's not supposed to be like this, is it?" Molly asked. The walls were… _flowing_. I remembered the basic layout; this was the hallway near the offices. In fact, if memory served, Marcone and Demeter's offices were each less than twenty feet away. But the shape of everything was _wrong_.

The large, open area, where all the workout equipment was located, should have been thirty feet away. This hallway was supposed to open onto it; I should have seen the dumbbells and treadmills from here, and the ceiling should have been less than a foot above me.

Instead, it was cavernous, stretching away in every direction. I felt like I'd stepped into the TARDIS. The amount of space I could see made no sense; the building wasn't big enough to contain it. There was no workout equipment. Instead, there was rock and bone, blood and ash. I looked back; the door to the stairs was still there, fixed into what remained of the real wall. But that wall was rapidly being consumed by Hellgoop.

The floor itself was uneven, dipping and rising in roller-coaster fashion, scraped bare and transformed into a blasted, rocky landscape. The light was coming from somewhere overhead, somewhere _far_ overhead; the fluorescents were long gone, and a nauseating, chaotic rainbow of randomly pulsing light came from behind corners I couldn't quite define. And the colours of everything, rocks, walls, shadows, were off.

Straight across the rock field, looking like it was at least a mile away, was another hallway. It was easy to lose among the rest; it almost looked like a cave. But the regular, rectangular shape gave it away as something natural.

"No, Molly," I said. "_Nothing_ is supposed to be like this. And in the real world, nothing _could_ be. Keep your eyes open. We're heading straight across."

Shield bracelets out, we started moving, Mouse and I in the lead. Where the last of the tiles ended in goopy dirt, I sank in an inch, and was glad I wore heavy workman's boots. I did not want any of that crap on my skin.

Overhead, the sound of hollow laughter. Nothing moved but the light. It wasn't quite a disco, but it was getting worse.

_Lash, this is going to get distracting. Can you – _

_Fill in the blanks? Of course._

My vision instantly stabilized. She was projecting what I was able to see during the bright seconds into my mind during the dark seconds. It wasn't perfect, but it would work. The pulsing continued in my peripheral vision.

"Whoa!" I spun to see Elaine slipping, and Molly's hand gripping her shoulder.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. Just can't see very well."

"No kidding. Let's pick it up, I don't want to be here any longer than we have to. Look at the ground instead of the far wall. It'll be easier.

I kept moving, and they kept up. We moved over a jagged rise, and started down into a wide dip. It wasn't quite as deep as I was tall, but I just about lost sight of the storage room door. At the deepest part of the dip, there was a trickling sound.

I looked down. There was blood flowing across the ground in a thin line. I breathed through my mouth and hopped it. A few feet later, we were rising again. I caught sight of the door. A few steps later, I caught sight of the moving shadow.

I froze, Mouse growled, and Molly bumped into me. "What? She asked, sword coming out. "What is it? Another demon?"

"Shadowman," I said. I almost laughed. "In Hell, everyone takes on demonic aspects that reflect what they were in life. Denton's team became warped versions of wolves. The Vargassis became stereotypical warriors.

"And Victor Sells was a guy who liked to dabble in magic, thought he was more substantial than he was, and always stayed out of the way." I focussed on the amorphous blob of not-light. "He was a shadow."

Unfortunately, he'd also been a wily little bastard, and his new form had emphasized that, too. It zipped across my vision, and vanished behind a rock pile. "Crap. Okay, his favourite MO was to blow people's hearts out of their chests. Just so you know."

"Do I ever tell you how much fun it is hanging out with you, Harry?" Elaine asked.

"Are you being sarcastic?" I asked, taking a few steps towards the pile.

"Me? Never."

We were about two feet away when a cloak of darkness exploded upwards from the rocks and covered us all. It hit like a truck, and I fell back.

A moment later, the darkness coalesced into a shape. A man. Sitting on my chest, hands around my neck.

I got one good breath in, then started to squeeze. He was much more substantial than a shadow now.

"Hello, _wizard_," he said, somehow making the second word an insult. He'd had no use for the White Council or the Laws of Magic in life, and it seemed, still did not. I tried to get my hands around his hands, but I passed right through.

I saw Molly's sword swing right through his face on an upward angle, passing through like he was mist. He didn't even look at her as he grew a third arm, and threw a piece of darkness at her. It caught around her head, covered her eyes like a blindfold. She fell with a cry.

Mouse jumped right through him, too, and Vic responded the same way, blinding him and pinning him to the ground, his eyes never leaving my rapidly-purpling face.

I got a hand on my old .44, pulled it out and put three shots through Vic's chest. He just laughed.

"Not so great now, are you, wizard? So high and mighty? Where are your Laws now?"

Man, I'd forgotten what a freaking drama queen he'd been.

"Hey, asshole," Elaine said from somewhere. "The only laws I respect are the laws of physics. Like the speed of light."

Blue-white light, gentle, steady and pure, started to grow somewhere outside my field of vision.

Vic cried out, and the pressure on my throat vanished. I sucked in breath. Vic's weight on my chest disappeared, too. Elaine stood beside me, her amulet, the one that looked so much like my own, hanging from her hand and glowing with the light of her will.

Sells was cowering back from it. More interestingly, the weird lighting effects surrounding us seemed to have been toned down.

I pulled out my own amulet, and flooded my own power into it. I was short of breath, exhausted, and I knew the effects of Gard's rune weren't going to last too much longer, but could still shine a light with the best of them.

Sells fell back, some of his body vanishing. He was yelping in pain.

Then another light joined ours. Molly was up, and a ring her parents had given her as an eighteenth birthday present was glowing on her finger. Sells was surrounded, and as we poured on the light, he was starting to fade away. Mouse joined us, his fur glowing brighter than any light we could put out. With a defiant scream, the Shadowman vanished.

With him went the psychotic lighting effects, including ours. We all took a second to breathe, especially me. "You okay, Harry?" Elaine asked. Mouse hopped over to me, worry in his big doggy eyes.

"Yeah," I croaked out. I gave Mouse a thankful pat, cleared my throat. "Been worse. He was kind of pathetic when he was alive, too, now that I think about it. Let's go."

We headed for the storage room again, across the blasted and weird landscape. We were about ten feet away when we heard gunshots. I threw up a shield without thinking about it, but no further sound came. I walked up to the door and knocked, politely. "Hello? Marcone, you in there? It's Dresden."

There was no sound for a moment, then I heard a woman's voice, faint, asking, "How do I know it's you?"

My eyebrows creased. Marcone, if he was alive and in there, wouldn't have made one of the girls answer for him. But also didn't employ the types of girls who would be trigger-happy. Which meant…

"You don't," I said. "But if he were in there, he wouldn't have let you answer, Helen. Am I wrong?" I paused. "Hendricks and Gard found me. I've brought some help, and I'm going to get you and your girls out. But I won't try to open this door if you tell me to go away."

"Describe the very first time you saw me."

"At O'Hare. I was talking to your driver, when you came out of the terminal and got in your limo."

The door cracked open, and the barrel of a mid-size Glock emerged, pointed at my face. I didn't move. Beckitt's hair was dyed a deep auburn, covering the grey that should have been there. Her eyes were hard and cold. "Helen."

She didn't respond.

I glanced down at my dog. "You remember Mouse."

She looked down, and the sight of him seemed to be what convinced her I was me. The gun lowered, and the door opened. Behind her, there were four young women in tight-fitting shirts and shorts, crouched on the floor. They looked haggard, but alive. On the far side of the room, there was a large hole torn in the wall, and the body of one of the Vargassi demons, its head oozing.

"You okay in here?"

"Yes. The girls are alive."

"Where are the rest? Gard said there were a dozen. And where's Marcone?"

"We were separated. There was an attack. John took the others."

"Where?"

"Upstairs. He has the penthouse office. It's the only other safe room in the building. Hello, Ms. Mallory."

Elaine had once been hired by Helen and some of her acquaintances a couple of years ago. It was the last time she'd been in town; a couple of serial killers had been going after women. "Hello, Helen. It's good to see you."

I made a snap decision. "Elaine, can you get them out?"

She looked back and forth from me to the cowering women. She probably had a flashback to a couple of years ago, herself.

"Yeah. Yes. I'll get them out."

Helen turned to her charges. "Go with this woman. She'll get you to safety."

"Wait, what?" I asked. "What are you taking about?"

"You'll need me to lead you to John. And convince him you're really you." Her voice was matter-of-fact. She rarely used any form of emotional inflection.

I sighed. She was right. I might be able to talk Marcone around, but it would take time. If she came along, it would speed things up.

"Alright. Guide us."

"Us?"

"Me, Molly and Mouse."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think one person can protect them."

"Look, we don't have time - "

"That's right, we don't," she said, cutting me off.

"You did just fine."

"In a small room. Against one attacker."

I rolled my eyes. She was right again. "Fine. Mouse, go with Elaine."

He groaned at me.

"I'll be fine, pal. Molly's going to be with me. But there are still 3 Vargassis here. Protect the girls. Please."

He looked at the young women, then looked back and huffed.

"Thanks. Elaine, if all goes well, we're going to need a couple cars."

"No problem." Then she leaned in and kissed me. "All will go well," she said.

I nodded, then turned to the madam. "Okay, lead on."

There was a private elevator, which had once been the service elevator when the building had been a hotel, near the back of the building. We had to hug the edge of the killing fields while the others crossed over, heading for the stairs.

I let my eyes linger on Elaine's diminishing form for half a second, then followed Helen, Molly at my side. We hopped across a dark chasm, about two feet wide. My foot knocked a stone into it. I did not hear it hit bottom.

The elevator itself was much like the doors here; on the verge of being absorbed by the Hellgoop and stretched into a part of the landscape. In fact, the goop was already starting to pull on one of the doors.

Helen fished a keycard out of a slacks pocket, and stuck it in a slot beside the elevator. She hit a button and waited, while I checked the sky – and yeah, it was far enough overhead now that I considered it the sky – and Molly kept an eye on the ground.

Finally, the door opened. Nothing was waiting inside for us except a dull, flickering light bulb. The box itself looked perfectly normal. We piled in, and she slid the card into a different slot, hitting the button for the penthouse. The elevator shook a bit, but the doors closed and we started moving up.

"Just think calm thoughts, Harry."

"Thank you, Molly. Great advice." The elevator took its sweet time. Finally, we heard an incongruously chipper 'ding' and the door opened on a small, wood-panelled room. I could only tell that much by the light from the elevator spilling out; the only light in this room was from a tiny red dot over yet another card slot. Beckitt opened this door, too, and we followed her through.

The penthouse hadn't been corrupted and altered by the Hellgoop. The lights were mostly off, and what little there was filtered in from the streets through enormous windows, along with gusts of wind, as many were shattered. The 'office' was huge, easily taking up the whole floor. Off to the left, there was a wall with two doors, presumably leading to a bathroom or some other, smaller storage space. The same to the right.

Every chair, bookcase and table had been tossed against the walls, some of them through the windows. Exactly one piece of furniture was left in the entire place: Marcone's desk.

I knew it was his because he was lying on top of it.

"Hell's bells," I muttered.

"Where are the girls?" Helen asked. She started forward.

"Helen, wait!" I hopped to keep up with her, and she did not slow down. She got to the desk. Marcone was tied to it with heavy chains criss-crossing his body. His shirt was torn, and his face bruised. His pants had been shredded up to his knees. He was missing his shoes and socks. All of his exposed skin was covered in shallow cuts, some healing, some too fresh to do so.

"John," Beckitt said. "Can you hear me? Where are they?"

His eyes pulled open. "Helen, they're safe, you have to get out - "

The door to one of the storage room blew open, and one of the Vargassi demons took a heavy step out. It roared. Beckitt and I had our guns on it in a second. "Molly, him loose."

Before she could respond, there was another crash from behind us; I turned to find another Vargassi enforcer. "Okay," I said. "We can still handle this. Molly, hurry up." She was already working with the lock. I moved around the desk to put myself between the demon and my former apprentice.

Then a third crash, from above. I looked up as part of the drop-tile ceiling collapsed to the floor not ten feet from us. The third demon was waiting for us there, crouched and ready to spring from the rafters.

"Oh, shit," I cursed.

They all charged at the same time. The one above was the biggest threat; I lifted my staff and shouted, "_Forzare!_"

The blast caught it, knocking it off to the side and away from landing on my face. I spun to one approaching from my side and got my shield up just as it hit me. As before, the shield took most of the impact, but I still fell back, hitting the desk. Behind me, I heard two quick shots, then felt another impact; the other demon hitting the desk.

I turned. It had its arm up, ready to bring them down on Molly and Marcone. Another "_Forzare!_" and it stumbled back.

Molly gave up on the chains, and brought her sword to bear on the demon. I turned around in time to see the last one, the one from the ceiling, spinning its mace overhead. I pulled out my gun and got one loud, lucky shot off. I didn't hit its skin, but I did break its concentration, causing it to lower the weapon.

There were two more gunshots behind it, and its face exploded outward. Helen was quite the shot; she'd have given Murphy a run for her money.

I turned back to the second demon, just in time for it to back hand me in the shoulder. With no shield, I felt the whole of the impact, my duster barely taking the edge off. I flew up and over the desk, twirling in the air. My staff went flying, my duster twisted around me, and my right arm went numb.

I landed on the floor, dazed, but face up. I saw Molly duelling with one Vargassi, and heard a couple of shots out of sight; Helen and the other one. I had to help. I got my left hand up on the edge of the desk and pulled myself into a sitting position.

"Dresden." Marcone.

"Yeah?"

"These chains are too tight."

"I noticed." A little higher. I could look Marcone in the face now.

"There's no way to undo them."

"I noticed that, too, John."

"So break the desk."

I did a double take. That was simple enough to work. Hell, breaking things was one of my acknowledged specialties. Half a smile lit up my face. "Brace yourself," I said.

I held my right hand with my left one, pointed it like a rifle at a joint between a bank of drawers and the backing, drew in my will, and shouted, "_Forzare!_"

The desk cracked, jerked, jumped, then collapsed in a broken heap. Which got everyone's attention. Helen was almost back at the elevator, having drawn the demon that far away. It snorted at us, and started coming.

Molly was much closer. She took her eyes off her monster for just a second.

It brought its mace down with one hand, hard, but she parried, taking an awkward step back. With its free hand, it grabbed her ankle, and pulled.

"Molly!" The demon yanked her off her feet, pulled her up, and swung her around its head. I couldn't do anything without the risk of hitting her. I just stared, with no idea what to do. Then, with a grunt, it threw her.

Not at me, but at a nearby wall. My eyes followed her, not willingly, but I couldn't look away. She hit the wall with a crunch, and fell to the floor, not moving. I screamed something incoherent, saw red, and ran at the beast. Just outside its reach, I drew back my right hand, numbness forgotten, and yelled a nonsensical jumble of syllables.

I swung my hand and released the energy, full into its chest. The son of a bitch flew backwards, hitting a wall itself. 'You like that?" I shouted. I ran at it, ready to smack it with anything I could, staff or no, magic or no, bare hands or no, but when I got close, it flared its wings, and caught me in the shoulder.

I fell on my side. And of all the times for Gard's rune to start to wear off, it chose right then. I could barely get a breath in, and I certainly couldn't concentrate. Adrenaline was keeping me conscious. I saw the demon rearing up over me, bringing its mace up…

Then I heard another gunshot, this one a little louder than Beckitt's 9mm. The demon staggered as a piece of skin was ripped off its skull. Then another shot, and another flying piece of monster. It dropped the mace over its shoulder, turned, and took yet another shot to the face. It toppled over on its back.

I turned my head far enough to see Marcone walking calmly towards me, .45 in hand. He stepped right up to the body, looked at the head, and methodically put three more shots in it. He glanced at me, I nodded at him, and he turned back to Beckitt and her monster, which was no longer menacing anyone; it was nursing several heavy wounds, bleeding smoke and fire.

I struggled up to my feet, and started working my way over to Molly. She was moving her head, which I took as a good sign.

"Oh, Marco," Marcone was saying. "It didn't have to be like this. We didn't have to be rivals."

"Molly," I said when I reached her. "You with me?"

"My leg," she said. I helped her sit up, and she gasped, teeth together. "Oh, it hurts. Oh, God, it hurts."

I touched the place she was grabbing, halfway along the thigh. It was broken. In a way, she was lucky she wore tight jeans; they were holding the swelling in check. Then again, I didn't know enough about the various arteries and nerves in there to know if that was even a good thing.

"Okay, okay. Uh, do you think you can stand?"

"Not on this leg."

There was an eruption of gunshots from the other side of the room, fast enough that I lost track of the count. Then Marcone and Helen were walking towards us. He had discarded his gun, but she still had hers. "Are you okay?" he asked Molly.

"Her leg's broken," I said.

"Hurts like Hell," she said.

"Help me get her up."

He nodded, and between us, we got her more or less standing with a minimum of gasps of pain.

"Where are the girls?" Helen asked.

Marcone nodded to a far corner. "The safe room. They couldn't get in because of certain… reinforcements used in its construction. They were torturing me to get the access code. They wanted to kill the girls in front of me."

She was already moving. "What is the code?"

He followed her. "One, zero, one, three, seven, five."

That number sounded familiar, but I was too tired to think about it. In the distance, through the open window, I heard a steady thumping sound. "Molly, put your right leg behind your left, and hold it straight. Then brace yourself, I'm going to pick you up."

"Okay." She did as instructed, and leaned back into my arms, her own arms around my neck. Gently as I could, I put my right arm under her legs, then started to straighten up. She winced once, but I got her up without too much trouble. She honestly didn't weigh that much. Or I was just stronger than I remembered.

_I am masking some of the pain, Harry_, Lash said.

_Oh. Well, that works, too_.

I started, slowly, towards the elevator. Near to it, a large, heavy door, ,which I had thought was a wall, cracked open. Helen went in, and I heard numerous platitudes and reassurances. The working girls came out, one at a time. Some of them were wearing their uniforms, some were in street clothes. All were in their early twenties, in good shape, and quite pretty.

"John," I asked, "would you mind bringing my staff along?"

The elevator was crowded on the way down, but everyone gave Molly's legs space. We bypassed the second floor completely by common assent. We emerged into a storage room behind one of the shops, and Marcone led us out, towards the usual place for the front door. Gard was not on the floor, but the blood-covered mace was.

When we got to the entranceway, a six-foot hole had been opened in the wall, about three feet off the ground. Elaine saw us first. "Harry! Hey, they're down! Harry, what - ?" Her hand went to her mouth. "Molly."

Marcone and Helen waited while their employees charged out the hole in the wall. Elaine, Sanya and Fix helped them over the barrier.

"Fix, where are the wolves?"

"Dead," he said.

"How?"

"Uh, it was, uh…"

Lara appeared beside him, and put a hand on his shoulder. "The word he's looking for is, 'yucky.' But Thomas and I are feeling much better."

"That's… terrific. Really great. Thanks for the image. Would you mind putting that better-ness to use and giving me a hand here?"

She sighed, but she took Molly, gently as a new born. I turned to Marcone. "Okay, John, your turn."

There was one last gunshot from behind us, and Marcone staggered, then slid to the floor.

I spun, throwing up a shield, which sprang to glittering, blue life between us and the shooter.

Helen Beckitt.

"Please don't get in the way, Mr. Dresden."

"Helen, please don't do this."

"The world is ending, Mr. Dresden. I have one bullet left. This is my only chance to do this. Now please get out of the way." Her voice was flat as ever.

Marcone grunted from the floor, and turned himself. His shoulder was a bloody mess. I've been shot before, in both shoulders, actually. Hurts like a bastard, but as long as the bullet goes through and there is prompt medical attention, it can be survivable.

"Helen, you don't have to do this."

"If my girls are safe, this is all I have left. Please move."

"Helen…" I glanced down at Marcone. He was glaring at me.

"No," he said.

"She's still alive."

Beckitt's eyes flicked to me.

"Amanda is still alive."

"Dresden, you don't have the right - "

"What are you talking about? Don't lie to me about my daughter." And for the first time, was that a hint of anger?

"He didn't shoot her. One of the Vargassis hit her, trying to kill Marcone. But she didn't die, Helen. They lied."

Her mouth twitched. "No. No, the coroner - "

"Was on their payroll. Tell her, John."

"Dresden, this isn't the time - "

"She's going to kill you, as soon as my concentration breaks. This is the only time you've got!"

He waited for another moment, thinking it through. Finally, he turned to her. "Amanda is currently in a long-term care facility in Wisconsin."

Helen's upped lip quivered. "That's impossible."

"It's not," I said. "She's been there for about 12 years, on his dime. She's the reason for his 'no-children' rule."

Her head was shaking, just a little. "Why? If this is true, why didn't you tell before now?" Her voice was rising.

"Because," he said, "I didn't want you to see her that way."

"What way?" Her voice was, dare I say, upset? Normal, even?

Marcone dug into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He pulled out a small picture and handing it to me. It was a shot of Amanda Beckitt, lying in her hospital bed, eyes closed, arms still, sheets crisp. It wasn't exactly the same little girl's face from the soulgaze I'd once traded with Helen, but it was close. I willed my shield smaller, stepped forward, and put the picture on the floor, then retreated. Helen stepped forward and picked it up.

She stared at it, her mouth falling open as Marcone said, "She's in a coma. She has been since the day she was shot. Completely non-responsive. That picture is less than three months old. I thought… I thought you deserved to remember her the way she was."

"If she's alive, I deserve to see my daughter!" she shouted. She sounded borderline hysterical. Waving a gun in one hand and a photo in another didn't help.

Marcone raised his uninjured arm. "You're right. You do. I was just afraid that, after everything you've been through… it would be too much."

"Too much?" A tear spilled out of her eye. "I don't – I don't – how could it?" She looked at the photo again. "I mean… I…" Now she was crying, from both eyes. She dropped the gun and held the picture with both hands. "Amanda?" she whispered. She collapsed to her knees.

I stepped forward, dropped my shield and kicked her gun away. She didn't seem to notice. I ducked down. "He'll take you to her. As soon as we get out of here, he'll take you to her. Okay?"

She nodded, sniffing her nose. She didn't look away from the picture.

"Okay." I put an arm around her and helped her to her feet. At the hole in the wall, a very relieved-looking Elaine and Molly helped her out.

I ducked down to get an arm under Marcone. "For the record, I'm sorry I broke your confidence, John."

"Don't worry, Dresden. I'm sure you'll make it up to me somehow."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: A couple notes. One, I've received a couple requests from folks who would like to write omakes or entire stories based off of the 'Broken' continuity. I'll make a blanket statement right now to anyone who would like to do that: Please do! I don't think anybody would be here without fanfiction, so who am I to say no to fanfiction of fanfiction? I find it flattering, so knock yourselves out. Just let me know when you publish!**

**Two, a couple people asked me when this fic started what I was thinking when I made Molly the Winter Knight. Well, we're about to have the answer to that… next chapter. Sorry.**

**Finally, a big thank you to all who have read, enjoyed and reviewed. Not much joy to be had in writing if no one is going to read.**

Elaine handed me off to one of the girls we'd rescued. I was pretty much dead on my feet and was only dimly aware of being helped into the back of a minivan, the seats having been ripped out, and flopping down next to Molly. I didn't know how many vehicles we had, or where anyone else was. Mouse climbed in with us. The door was slid shut behind him.

"Hey, teach," she said through a clenched jaw.

"Padawan," I said, eyes closed.

We stayed in silence for a moment. "Are you okay, Harry?"

I popped an eye open. "Seriously, kid? You're asking me? You're the one with the broken leg."

"I know. And it hurts, but… you look done in."

"I'm just exhausted. You've got that Winter Knight superhuman endurance thing going on, so you wouldn't know anything about exhaustion anymore."

She looked away and shuddered. "Believe me, Maeve can be very… energetic."

I found my teeth grinding together. But I did not ask. I would not ask her to talk about that before she was ready. But when she was, I would listen.

And then I would hunt down another Sidhe Lady, and kill her. Maybe have a good talk with her mom, too.

A flush of anger brought back a little consciousness. With it, I heard shouting. Mouse turned his head a let out a low growl.

I heard a vehicle starting and peeling out. At almost the same moment, the driver's door of our van was ripped open, and Thomas jumped in, turned the key and threw the transmission in drive. "Hold on back there!" Mouse instantly dropped flat.

I came the rest of the way awake, and got a hand on Molly's shoulder. Her leg hadn't been braced, and neither of us was strapped down. "Careful, Bo; Daisy and I ain't buckled in!"

"Sorry!" he said, without sounding like it. The van jerked ahead and Molly rolled into me, grunting a little.

"Dammit, Thomas, be careful! What's going on?" I asked.

"Those wolves we put down? They came back."

"What? You said you killed them!" I grabbed a seatbelt, suspended from the ceiling, and pulled it down until it caught, then handed it to Molly to hold onto. She wrapped it around one arm and held onto a cup holder with her other hand.

"We did."

_You are in Hell, Harry._

_Yeah, so?_

_Hell exists for one reason: to contain souls. Chicago is in transition, so is not quite Hell, but rather an island within it. Like a bubble beneath a lake of fire. Once killed, they were resorbed, reformed, and sent back._

"Crap," I said.

"What?" Thomas said as he took a corner just a little too sharply. Molly rolled a little, but didn't seem too put out. I crawled up to the front seat.

"Ever see that movie, The Sixth Day?"

"No."

"You didn't miss much, but according Lash, the short version is, the bad guys have unlimited lives."

"Oh, good. It's been a while since I played a bad video game. Why do you like so many bad sci-fi movies?"

"Same reason I make the Alphas tell me all about the internet; to compare to _Star Wars_, and find it lacking."

I looked through the back window, and sure enough, a large, malformed wolf-like creature was chasing us down. And gaining.

"How far are we from the church?"

"Five minutes, the way I drive."

"Where's everyone else?"

"No idea. Sanya, Lara and Elaine took their vans in other directions."

"Think, Harry, think. Okay. Okay, I've got one bad idea." I turned and rolled out of my seat, crawling to the back door. "How you holding up, grasshopper?"

"Could be better," she said, and she was pale enough that I believed her.

"Molly, I'm not very good with ice magic, but I think the wolf will have a harder time chasing us on a skating rink."

She met my eyes, then nodded. "I see what you're getting at, but I'm not much use right now." To emphasize the point, we hit a bump in the road, bounced, and Molly's eyes all but rolled up into her head.

"I got you covered. I'm very good at drawing in heat for spells."

A few seconds later, I popped the back door open with my left hand, seatbelt wrapped tightly around my wrist, foot braced against the door frame. My right arm was twined with Molly's left, our fingers laced. She held me in a death grip, her right hand extended.

A few months back, I'd tried a similar trick with McCoy. It had worked, but nearly drained me. I drew in my will, and fed it to Molly.

Predominately, the right side of the human body projects energy, and the left absorbs it. There are exceptions, and I've seen wizards toss around magic with their left hands, but I'm not generally that skilled. Ana, who can pretty much weld steel with her left index finger, says it's like a muscle – it has to be flexed and exercised to work, something I've never done. As a result, neither has my former apprentice. She drew in energy as I projected it at her.

Then she turned it into magic. "_Arctis_," she whispered, and I felt the temperature drop. Ice began to form in our wake, covering the street in a thin sheet.

The wolf responded by going up on the sidewalk. Molly moved her hand, and the wolf leapt back to the street.

Molly dropped her hand. "I can't," she said, breathing hard. "I can't do enough to get in its way."

I made a decision, and held Molly's hand all the tighter. "Try again."

She looked at me, then back at the wolf-thing, which was pretty close now, and obviously looking right at me. The shape of the face gave it away: Phil Denton, twisted into a demon, chasing me down, whether for the thrill, the threat of pain, or simply due to his nature, I would never know.

Molly raised her hand, and I fed her Soulfire.

At her word, a gale of ice and snow coalesced behind the van, instantly covering the street, sidewalks, cars, and walls in a thick sheet of winter wonderland. One of the doors tried to swing shut, and I had to kick out a leg over Molly to keep it out of her way.

The Denton wolf hit the ice and started to slide. "Thomas, any time now!" I shouted.

A moment later, my brother cranked the wheel, and we shot down another street, out of the wolf's way. Molly killed the special effects, and Denton slid, hit the end of the ice, and pitched forward, hitting a parked vehicle face first and losing his footing.

He'd be up again in a moment, but we'd be back at the church by then.

Beside me, Molly took a deep breath. "We did it!" she breathed.

"Yeah," I said, suddenly light-headed. "We did."

I felt myself leaning back, but before I felt the van's floor, I was unconscious.

"Harry," Lash was saying, "you have to be more careful."

"What do you mean?" I asked. I was sitting in my office, behind my desk. It was our favourite meeting place, despite having suffered from a bad case of explosive.

And yes, that's the end of that sentence.

She was perched on the corner of my desk, hair a flaming red, toga a beautiful off-white.

"The Soulfire," she said. "You burn through it more quickly here, so long as the Transit is even partial."

"Is that why I'm exhausted?"

"Partially. Your soul itself is depleted, though not completely gone. Mostly, you are exhausted because you've barely slept in days. And have been using magic almost non-stop. I'm doubtful you could cast a spell right now if you tried."

I thought about it. I didn't have the strength to lift my arm to point at her while I told her off, even here in my own mind. "You… might be right."

"There is little I can do for you now." She paused, looking away from me. "Unless you were to take up the coin."

I tilted my head at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"I know. I said I would not tempt you again, and I am not. I'm simply stating an option." She wouldn't meet my eyes. "It would give you the strength you need. Though… it would destroy who you are."

"It would destroy you, too. You'd be overwritten by Lasciel."

"I know," she whispered. "But _you_ would live, and have the power to finish saving your city. Your friends. Everyone and everything you love." Was that a tear?

"Lash," I said, gently. "It's not an option. And until I have absolutely no other ways of doing what I'm doing, it never will be." I managed to lift a hand, and took hers. It was much easier than I'd expected. "Quite frankly, we both deserve better."

She looked at me, a tiny curve to one side of her mouth. "I've watched humanity from their creation. People like you come along rarely, Harry Dresden. Perhaps only once or twice a generation."

"What can I say? I gotta be me."

She took a deep breath. "Harry, I can slow the… the burn rate. Of the Soulfire. But while doing so, I would be unable to help in any other way. It is… consuming."

I twitched an eyebrow at her choice of words. "Consuming?"

"Of my attention," she said quickly.

"Well, I'll keep it in mind."

I blinked and was back in the van, lying next to Molly as we slid to a hard stop. My head bounced off the passenger chair. "Ow."

"Sorry," Thomas said. "We're here." He sounded completely out of breath, like he'd just been scared.

I came fully awake, rolled over, and forced my way up to my knees. "Are you okay?"

He looked in the rearview mirror. "There were other demons," he said.

I looked out the back window, at the street at the edge of the church's property. There were, indeed, 'others.' Demons. Small, large, twisted, recognizable, multi-limbed and amorphous blobs. Describing them doesn't really help. They were ugly. They never stopped moving, or agitating. There were half a dozen in sight, spread out at roughly equal intervals, all hot-footing from one leg to another to another.

And more were slowly coming into sight from around various corners.

Crap.

They were all ugly, but not one resembled another. And it seemed they were having trouble stepping on hallowed ground. I made a mental note to ask father Fraser if he knew where any other churches, mosques, synagogues and the like were around town. It would be good to have bolt holes.

I took a breath, heaved myself out the door. There was a steady thumping sound at the edge of my hearing, behind the occasional growls and screeches from the peanut gallery. The door was guarded by three Wardens and two wolves.

One of the Wardens, a young woman with Middle Eastern features wearing a long robe beneath her grey cloak, stepped forward, looking worried.

"Warden," I said by way of greeting.

"Sir!" she said in accented English, "I'm glad you have returned. Captain Luccio and Wizard McCoy said they wanted to see you as soon as you came in."

"Thank you. They're in the back room?"

"No. They're trying to calm the crowd."

"Crowd? What crowd?"

She opened the door for me. The sounds of angry shouting rolled out.

Double crap.

I turned back to Thomas, who was helping Molly out of the van. Despite her injury, he looked in control. "Thomas? You okay?"

"Yeah. Those wolf-things were… passionate."

I held up a hand, not wanting the details. "Mouse, stay with Molly." I turned back to the Warden. "Have any other vans arrived?" I glanced at the van Ana and Ebenezar had brought back. "In the last few minutes?" I added.

"No, sir."

"What about a really short blonde woman with a bloodied Sword of the Cross?"

"No, sir."

And triple crap.

"There should be three more vans. Watch for them." _If they arrive_, I didn't say.

I got a nod from her, then turned and jogged down the hall, past the war room, its door closed. Well, it was more of a shuffle, really. I was too tired to jog. And the action started a headache brewing. I was moving with one arm against the wall by the end of the hall. There, two Wardens and two guardsmen were holding back a huge push of people with verbal and weapon-y threats. One of the Wardens had a partial shield up, bouncing people gently back.

And the people they were holding back did not look happy. From where I stood, I could see most of the Wardens were blocking the exits. Some guardsmen were standing with the Wardens, some were with the crowd. The ones in the crowd did not appear to have their weapons. I caught glimpses of some of the Alphas, mostly in loose-fitting sweats, backing-up the Wardens.

Not all of the lights were on, and it made the whole church proper look like a cave. An ornate cave, but not somewhere people should be cooped up.

It took my cloudy head a second to realize what was going on: a large group of scared people, crowded into a small, dark space? It was just a matter of time. Fear turns to anger very easily, especially when stress runs high, and we were running out of food and power.

Also, the church only had so many bathrooms.

Not everyone was a part of the mob; some people were huddled in corners or up against walls. Many of them were crying. I was now doubly glad we gotten the children out before the walls went up.

I suddenly found myself wondering where the hell all the cops and FBI agents in town had gotten to.

I found McCoy and Ana with my eyes, standing with Billy and Fathers Fraser and Paulo and half a dozen bodyguards in grey cloaks and/or fatigues, all up on the pulpit. Their arms were up, and they appeared to be appealing to the crowd, but I couldn't hear anything they were saying.

"We want out!" one loud voice cried, and others took up the cry, making into a three-beat chant. It was pretty impressive when they started shaking their fists in time to the chants.

_Oh, this is at the boiling point. Any ideas how to calm the crowd?_

_One, but you won't like it._

_People are about to get hurt, Lash. What is it?_

She responded with a flash of images.

_Seriously? In a church? _I sighed, knowing I had no time for a differentplan_._

_You asked. And for the record, if you are afraid of going to Hell, it would be a short trip._

_Ha-ha. Fine, let's do it._

"Excuse me," I said to the guards in front of me, and nudged through them politely. They were a little busy holding back a human tidal wave, so they let me through.

As I stepped into the crowd, I lifted my borrowed staff and tapped it firmly against the floor, just once. At the same moment, I tapped Soulfire, and re-created that ball I'd recently mastered. Instead of letting it float away, I mentally anchored it right above and behind my head. It looked like a nimbus.

Some people might have called it a 'halo.' I say nimbus.

The mental and physical effort was like swimming against a moderate current. I could do it, but not for long.

The people right in front of me stopped shouting and moving as I caught their eyes. I'm pretty tall, was probably the tallest person in the place at that moment. I looked down at them, and tried to look benevolent. I leaned on my staff a bit. I tried to give them a small smile as I looked each in the eye, briefly. It was about all I was capable of.

I moved forward slowly, heading for McCoy. A wave of quiet swept the crowd, slowly at first, then more quickly, until I had the awed attention of everyone in the place.

Hoo-boy.

I took the stairs up towards the altar, nodded to McCoy and Ana. They both shook their heads at me. Then Fraser and Paulo looked like I had just spat on them. Nothing to be done about it, though.

I turned to the crowd, and let the Soulfire nimbus fade away. My abilities to think and stand without leaning both came back to me. I also could have sworn I heard a gasp of relief.

I looked out at everyone, and opened my mouth, not entirely certain what was about to come out of it. The way I was feeling, I half expected my improvised dinner from a few hours ago.

Instead, I said, "Please, listen," and my voice carried. Despite all the bodies, and the simple listlessness of the air, my voice carried. I guess that's the way pulpits are designed, though. "Ladies and gentlemen," I said, and resisted the urge to add, 'children of all ages.' I must have been getting punchy. "I know you're tired. Hungry. Scared. I am, too." I glanced at McCoy, who gave his classic 'I hope you know what you're doing' face.

_Nope, not a clue, Sir._

I continued, "And maybe the worst part of it all, is the lack of information. You don't know what's going on outside." There was a grumble. Huh. After the spiel in front of the White Council, this was easier than I thought. "You don't know if your families and friends are safe." Another grumble, just a shade louder. "And you don't know why no one will let you outside." The next grumble was more of a cry of 'Yeah!'

"Well, the simple answer is, you can't leave, because you will die." That got a bunch of silent, shocked stares. I guess you can please some of the people some of the time…

"What the hell are you talking about?" a voice asked. I looked for it. A tall, young black man stepped forward, glaring at me. He wore slacks, heavy boots, and a red shirt. He had a Superman 'S' tattoo poking out of his shirt sleeve, which got him a couple points with me. He didn't look scared, or awed. Not even angry. Just exhausted and frustrated. That got him a few more points. A small but diverse crowd cheered a little behind him.

A sharp, low whisper from Anastasia: "Careful." Her hand tightened on her short staff of maple.

I took a breath, let it out. Then I took a step down from the pulpit. Then another. The young man didn't move. I stepped down to the floor and stood near him. "What's your name?" I asked.

"Alex."

"Well, Alex, there are things beyond those doors that you haven't dreamed of. Horrible things, uglier than you can imagine, and more disturbing than any nightmare you've ever had. This entire city has been taken hostage. Those fires – you know the ones I'm talking about – they were put up for a purpose: to isolate us. To limit us. To keep us from escaping, while we are terrorized and abused, hunted down and brutalized. And then slaughtered."

His eyes flickered away from me, then back. I carefully looked at his nose. "By what?" he asked, but his voice had no vitriol, no suspicion. He already knew I was telling the truth. He'd seen something on the way here, something disturbing. Maybe he'd dodged one of Chauncey's co-workers, or maybe just heard something. Or maybe, on some instinctual level, he just knew things were _wrong_. Hell, if everyone here was letting him speak for them, they knew it, too.

I've seen what keeping people in the dark for their own safety can do to people. Kim Delaney. Murphy (god, where was she?). Kirby. Molly.

In short, it gets them hurt or killed anyway. And people, I feel, ought to have the right to make an informed decision. We're mortal, we all die. But we – all of us, wizard or not – should get to choose where and how.

And for what.

I nodded at Alex. "All right. You want to know what's hiding in the shadows?"

"Hoss," McCoy said from behind me, a warning in his voice.

"No," I said, starting to get angry again. I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe it was my own frustration, maybe I was just picking up on the crowd's feelings. "They have a right to know, Sir." I paused, turned to him and lowered my voice. "They have a right to _choose_."

Conflict swept over his face, but only for a second or two. He glanced at Ana, whose face gave nothing away, then turned back to me, and nodded slowly.

I turned back. "You want to know what's going on?" I asked.

"Yeah," Alex said, and he did sound sure.

"You want to see what's so dangerous?"

"Yeah," he said again, and others backed him up.

"Okay. Follow me." I moved around him and started down the nave, heading for the main door. People moved out of my way.

The door was blocked by three guardsmen and two Wardens, and they all moved when I got there. I put and hand on the door, then turned back to the crowd and said, "Outside. In the parking lot. I'll explain there."

Then I shoved the door open and led the exodus.

Everything is harder when you're tired. Minor aches and pains feel like paralysing spasms. Concentrating is difficult. Your eyes get that weird feeling, like you opened them under water. You lose your balance easily.

I leaned heavily on my borrowed staff as I stood in St. Mary's parking lot, some 1200 people with me, most of them trying to look small. McCoy stood near me, keeping an eye on my sagging form. Ana stood near him.

Nearly everyone's attention was on the edge of the property; they were staring at the demons. It felt like I was a guide at the weirdest zoo in history. Over the growlings and screechings, I could hear a low thumping noise over the northern horizon. I was afraid I knew exactly what it was, but it wasn't too close. I did my best to ignore it for now.

"What the hell are those things?" Alex asked me. His eyes were huge, and his mouth didn't seem to be able to close all the way. He looked like he couldn't decide between pinching himself to wake up, or running and hiding in a corner. In other words, he was perfectly human.

I wasn't all that bothered. I wonder what that says about me?

"They're demons, smart guy," Faith Astor said, emerging from behind him in the crowd behind him. Some of the snark in her voice had been removed, though. "They are demons, right?" she asked me.

"Yeah. The nastiest part of your nightmares, made real." I turned and looked out at the perimeter, watching the mostly-indescribable things dance around, growling and posturing. I spared a moment's fear for Murph, then put it aside. I literally had more people to worry about than I could count right now. I wanted Karrin safe, but going out and looking for her was out of the question. "We're safe, for now," I said, raising my voice.

"You're gonna hurt yourself, Hoss," McCoy said. He whispered a word, gestured at me, and nodded.

"We're safe for now," I said again, and my voice carried, booming out three or four times louder than it should have been. I glanced at my grandfather. He bounced his eyebrows. "So long as this ground is sanctified, you're safe on it."

"This isn't happening," a man said without a lot of conviction. He was youngish looking, probably on the near side of thirty, and judging from his inexpensive suit, just getting his first taste of a real job, real responsibility this year. Ironically, he probably would have been more open to the idea a year or two ago. Now he was too 'mature' for such things. "Those things _cannot_ be real. This is impossible!"

"You want to walk over there and tell them that they don't exist? They might beg to differ." He didn't move, except to look from me to the demons and back. One of them let out a bellow, and he flinched. I turned and clambered up on the roof of a car. It took longer than it should have. I looked out at the crowd. "This is all real, folks. All of it. No special effects. There's no CGI, and those aren't guys in rubber costumes. It's real, and it's been real for a long time."

Lots of confused stares. More than a few disbelieving ones. And maybe, just maybe, a couple understanding ones?

"This can't be happening," another voice, a woman said. "It's like something out of a bad movie."

I continued, "You don't believe me, that's fine. It just means you were raised right."

"But… how can this be real? How can it be happening?" Her voice got quiet. "What did we do?"

"Nothing. We didn't bring this on ourselves. Look, every monster, every fairy, every creature of myth, every legend you were ever told, they're all real, to a greater or lesser degree. And they've been real a lot longer than you've been alive. And they don't much care for human beings.

"The people around you, the ones with the swords? They've been secretly protecting you for generations. When you feel a chill on your spine, they're the ones who make it go away. When something goes bump in the night, they're the ones who bump back." I never thought I'd find myself singing the Wardens' praises, let alone with line from _Hellboy_, but it had been that kind of weekend.

Now everyone was looking at their nearest Warden. "And I'm one of them. Some of you may know me, know my face. From TV, or walking down the street. This is my town, just as much as it's yours. And the masquerade has fallen here. It's come crashing down, right here, in the middle of Chicago."

Part of the crowd was starting to get on board with me; some of them, Alex, Faith and their friends in particular, nodding along with what I was saying. Hell's bells, I was getting good at this public speaking stuff.

"These things," I said, gesturing to the demons, "are dangerous. But they can't get you, not while you're here." I paused, dramatically. "At least, not yet." That got a few sharp and worried looks. "Now, look at the sky." I waited while everyone did, even if it was just a quick glance. I didn't; the last thing I needed was vertigo. "You see what it looks like? Black and red and evil all over? Left as it is, it's going to get worse. When it gets completely dark, completely _wrong_, the protection of this ground will be gone. Burned out. And those demons you see will just be the beginning. They will come flooding in here, and they will not hesitate to obliterate us all.

"But it doesn't have to happen. It doesn't have to be like that. Right now, it can still be undone. Some of you might wonder what can be done. Well I can't put it into clear words. I want to say, 'have faith,' but that seems insufficient. This can be beat, but only by people who know it can be beat."

"That doesn't make any sense," another person called out.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I wish…" My concentration was beginning to go. "I wish I could explain it in a way you'd understand… This is all real, but it's not permanent. It can be reversed. But you have to understand that those things out there, this sky… the longer they're here, the stronger they get.

"This is what you're facing. This is why they've been keeping you inside, and telling you nothing. Because anything they could say would be worse than nothing at all." I took a breath, and again heard the thumping noise in the distance. I hoped it was further away than it seemed.

A higher pitched, screeching sound, this one mechanical rather than demonic, cut across my brain. I turned to the street. A large van, mostly blue with faded lettering stencilled in the side, came careening around a corner.

"They're dangerous," I said. "They're evil, and destructive, and powerful." I jumped off the car, stumbled, and McCoy caught me. I pulled my revolver out of my pocket as I started walking towards the parking lot entrance, following the van's progress. "But they are _not_ invincible! Wardens, to me!"

I picked up to a jog, Ebenezar coming with me. I handed him the staff. I could barely pull together my concentration at the moment; magic was out of the question.

The crowd was watching us; we were watching the demons; the demons were watching the van as it turned and dodged in the street, coming ever closer. Other Wardens came up beside us. About ten feet from the property line, we stopped, staves, wands and guns at the ready.

I pulled a few stray rounds out of my pocket and started loading. Some of the demons were literally hopping mad, swiping at us but unable to get closer. Others were moving off at a run or a leap toward the van. I noticed a few of them had been taking swipes at the ground itself, leaving deep furrows in the ground and concrete. Some of the demons' hands (or claws, or flippers, or whatever) showed blisters and burns.

"Ready!" Ana shouted. I could feel the gathering of will and energy around me as every Warden picked a target or two. McCoy probably picked half a dozen. I focussed on a particularly ugly lizard-shaped thing with one wing and goat's horns, and drew aim with my .44. The van came closer.

"Now!" she shouted.

Ever had a neighbour who insisted on mowing his lawn at 7:00 on the Saturday morning after you had a late Friday? Or a guy in the next apartment who would practise his drums all day? Or did you ever hit the volume knob on your stereo before you pressed the power button, so that when you turned it on, it sounded like a marching band was traipsing through your forehead?

The sudden release of fire, lightning, ice, lead and pure, ethereal force was something like that, plus a low-level fireworks display. The demons, those that weren't immediately incinerated, didn't much care for it, and bolted. My lizard-goat just kind of exploded. Actually, the energy feedback almost knocked me over, too, but McCoy got a hand on my arm.

Into the path we blew open, the blue van came bouncing, straight up the driveway like any other day. The Wardens parted, the driver hit the brakes, and it slid to a hard stop in front of the crowd.

The van's driver door popped open, and Elaine Mallory hopped out. I smiled and hobbled over as she got the back door open, letting several of the Velvet Room's former employees out. A few Wardens and a couple of the civilians, including Will, helped them out and towards the church.

"Hey," I called. My voice had stopped booming.

She turned, saw me. "Harry," she said, and there was some relief in her voice. She walked up to me and slid her arms inside my duster, sinking her head to my chest. I wrapped my arms around her. We stayed like that for a few seconds. I felt my eyes try to close and forced them open.

"Good to see you, too."

She pulled back. "The others? Lara, Sanya?" She paused, then added, "Karrin?"

I shook my head. "Not yet."

"Mother of all. They had 3 or 4 of the girls in each van."

"What about Marcone? Gard, Helen?"

"I think Sanya had Gard in his van."

I took a breath. "They'll be okay. Sanya for obvious reasons, and Lara, for all her posturing, cares for Thomas. She won't let a little thing like Hell get between her and her little brother."

She nodded, but she didn't look relieved. I couldn't blame her. Her protective streak was just as wide as mine.

A few demons started screeching again. I saw large portions of the crowd cover their ears and many more start heading back inside. Alex and a few of his posse stood their ground.

Elaine looked out at the street, and the mess of demons, their numbers continuing to swell. "I feel like I'm in a menagerie."

"We are. But Mr. Spock isn't coming to rescue us."

"Hoss?"

I turned to McCoy. He was watching the side of the building.

"What the hell is that?" I heard Alex ask.

"It's a wolf, genius," Faith said. Her snark had returned to normal levels.

"It's Andi," I said, just as the lithe, ruddy wolf skidded to a stop, shimmered, and turned into a naked, buxom redhead. Several people gasped and gaped.

I have no words that can better describe the moment.

"Harry!"

"Yeah?" I was very carefully looking at her face, despite quite a bit of movement just south of there.

"A van just arrived. Out back."

Elaine, McCoy and I went to the back room, which was slowly beginning to feel like an infirmary. Father Fraser informed me that several of the injured had been taken upstairs to the priests' own quarters for rest. That was where Molly had ended up. Hendricks was laid out here, though, across two cots.

Sanya carried Gard in himself and sat her up against the wall near Hendricks. Then Fix came in and set her battle axe next to her. She looked a lot better than she had, her wounds now closed. She put a hand on Hendricks' arm and promptly closed her eyes.

Georgia and a couple of helpful other civilians were patching up the scratches and such on the Velvet Room refugees. Elaine joined them.

Sanya and Fix ushered McCoy and I out into the hall, which was less crowded. "Gard told us something interesting on the way here," he said.

"Oh, what's that?" McCoy asked.

"Reinforcements," Fix said. "She says she might be able to get armed people here."

"Did she get hit on the head?" I asked.

"No. It's the thinness. Between worlds. She says she might be able to call to her people. Once she gets some rest."

"Her people?" McCoy asked.

"Valkyries and einherjar," I told him.

"_Da_," Sanya said. "I for one would like her to try."

"Can't argue," I said.

McCoy nodded. "Okay, once she's able, let's get her whatever she needs. Keep an eye on her." Fix nodded.

"I have to go check on Molly," I said. "The ride in was a bit rough."

McCoy handed me the staff. "See you in a bit, Hoss."

I hadn't taken two steps when I heard a voice near the door; the young Warden I'd spoken to earlier. "The last van just arrived!"

I continued up the hall to the stairwell that led to the priests' dormitory. This hall was empty. The third door on the left was Father Fraser's, and I nudged the door open to find Molly on the bed, her broken leg stiff and exposed, tied tight with strips of cloth, the rest of her covered in a blanket, Mouse lying on the floor next to her, and Thomas in a chair, which was turned around backwards, of course. Molly's jeans were on the floor. They all turned as I came in. The room was very small.

"Hey," I said by way of greeting.

"Harry," Molly said, trying to sit up.

"Easy, kid," Thomas said, and gently pushed her back down.

"Lara just got here," I said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." I glanced at my former apprentice. "She'll probably be wondering where you are."

"True." He sighed. "Okay, I'll go talk to her."

He slapped me on the shoulder as he walked past. I took his place in the chair, and gave Mouse a pat when he lifted his head.

"Hey, boss," Molly said. She didn't sound weak, exactly. More like… distracted. Literally bone-shattering pain will do that, I suppose.

"How you holding up?"

"It hurts. But not as bad as it should." She blinked, her face suddenly sad. "It's nothing, really."

I grunted. "I guess we can thank Mab for that."

"Don't be too bitter, Harry. I chose this. I accept that."

"Molly…" And, I realised, we were at _that_ moment. "What Mab and Maeve did to you - "

"Please, don't." I stopped. She looked away, then pushed herself into a sitting position. I didn't stop her. "No, they didn't treat me well. They… they take what they want. And mark what they leave behind." She glanced down at the brand on her hip, just poking out of her blanket. "It was… painful. But the choice was pain or death. And I made the only choice available. It wasn't a good choice, but it was mine."

I gritted my teeth. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

"Harry… one of the lessons you tried to teach, that I learned slowly from you, was to always do the right thing, whatever the cost. Or you won't be able to live with yourself."

"True." I did not like where this was heading.

"Well, I wouldn't be able to do any good if I was dead. I knew you'd try to find me. Protect me. Just like you did for Morgan, and you hated him."

"Also true." Liking it less and less…

"But I couldn't let you do that. I had to take responsibility for myself."

Damn it. I hated it, but I couldn't take that responsibility away from her. She was an adult.

"I thought… I thought if I could just endure it for a while, just tough it out… then I'd still be able to do some good. I mean, we're mortal, right? We can still make decisions, think for ourselves. I'd answer to the Queens, but I'd still be who I am. I'd still be me." She turned her head back to me, and there were tears running down her cheeks.

"They tried to convince me that wasn't true. That I had to do what they told me. That I had no choice. That it would hurt when I tried to choose for myself. Everywhere. Inside and out."

I made a fist tight enough that my wrist cracked. They'd broken her, like a wild filly.

"Mind and body. And they did hurt me. For a while, I resisted, but Harry… Once they're inside your head, your body…" She shuddered. "I believed them. I couldn't choose. A big part of me was relieved. Not having to choose was easier, you know? But another part, a tiny little piece, was terrified. Of what they'd make me do. What they _did_ make me do. Target practice." She put her head in her hands. "They made me kill, Harry. Fair folk. Wyldfae. Any citizen of Winter who displeased the Queens. The first one was so hard, but each one after… They changed time there; I spent weeks destroying things, Harry. Weeks _murdering_. I was so scared of when they would send me back, of what I'd do once I returned… Then they did send me back, to Chicago."

She looked at me. "To _you_. And I remembered. I remembered that I can say no to them." She shook her head, eyes closed. "It just hurts so much to do it. I hate them, Harry. Both of them. I wish I could kill them. I've never thought that about anyone, human or not, before. But I'm not strong enough. I can't kill. I can't even fight like this."

Mouse let out a growl, and I jumped, spinning to face the door and bringing up a shield.

"It is a boon, then," Maeve said, leaning against the doorframe, "that we no longer need you to."


	16. Chapter 16

The Winter Lady looked supremely unconcerned with me, though I had a shield up, a staff raised, and murder in my eyes. I didn't really stand a chance against her, and I knew it, but I didn't care. Just to look scary, I let a little Hellfire seep into my staff. The runes carved along it lit up with a red-black glow and started smoking, a scent of brimstone and burning wood drifting into the air.

"Please, wizard," she said, her voice somehow acerbic and sultry at once. "I can see from here that you can barely stand, even if the Fires of Destruction flow through you. Besides, you cannot stand between me and my Knight." She smirked. "It would be improper."

The faerie bitch was right. I was a member of the White Council, a signatory to the Unseelie Accords, and as such, preventing her from claiming – or even approaching – a member of her Court was forbidden. My concentration wavered, and my shield blinked out. But I didn't move out of the way, and my expression didn't mellow.

"Better," she said. Maeve wore tight jeans, complicated looking heels, and a very flattering, form-fitting white tee-shirt. Her hair was separated into dreadlocks, each one a slightly different colour, running the gamut from pure black on her left shoulder to every shade of blue and green, to pure white on her right. Each of them looked hard and shiny enough that she could have broken them off like an icicle.

"My Lady," Molly said from behind her.

"My Knight," Maeve said, and her voice purred and she smiled. "I knew your feelings for Mother and I were… unflattering. But your words were simply hurtful."

Molly paused, and when she spoke, her voice was flat and held a hint of sarcasm. "Lady, please forgive me - "

"Oh, do stop." The smile was gone now. Molly stopped talking and sagged a bit in the bed. There was a look of disgust on her face. I'd never been prouder of her.

I risked speaking. It came out as a growl. "What are you doing here, Maeve? For that matter, _how_ are you here?"

"Oh, silly wizard. The White God holds no anger against the Sidhe. Standing on this ground is of little inconvenience."

"I meant how did you get to Chicago? We're stuck in Hell, and last time I checked, that wasn't your domain."

She smiled and touched her tongue to her lips. "Oh, a girl has her ways. I could show you the Way… for a price, or course."

"Of course. You haven't answered the rest of my question. What are you doing here?"

"Is a Lady not permitted to see her servant?"

"She is. But you still haven't answered and I don't want to ask again." I smiled. "It would be improper."

Asking a Sidhe – or any fae, really – a question three times binds them to the answer; it must be the truest answer they can give. And since the fae love word games and messing with mortals, they hate being bound almost as much as they love making deals. Hey, I didn't write the rules.

"Very true, wizard," she said, and the slightest hint of devilish joy crept back into her voice. I didn't like the sound of it. "Very well," she said, stepping into the room. "I'm here to make you an offer."

Now, deals with the Sidhe are to be avoided like the plague. I would know; I'm still in debt to Mab over something stupid I did many, many years ago.

"Go fuck yourself," I said.

She actually looked offended for a second. Then she smiled again, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Wouldn't that be a sight?"

"I'm serious. You're not welcome here." I wavered a little on my feet. The adrenaline I'd been coasting on since the wide van ride was ebbing; I was crashing.

"And yet, here I am. You cannot force me to leave; this is not your home, dear wizard. Of course, you have no home and your city progresses ever closer to never returning to the mortal realm. And demons of great and terrible power stand near, held at bay only through the power of a being you swear no allegiance to." My teeth ground together. "It would seem that your options, dear wizard, are running thin."

She was right again. I hated myself, but I asked anyway. "What kind of offer?"

"Merely the strength to stand and protect your city."

"Really? And what will that cost me?"

She glanced at Molly.

I kept my temper, but it was a near thing.

I spoke, using only my lips. My jaw was clenched too tightly to use. "You want to give me the Winter Knight's mantle? Not a chance in hell."

"Curious choice of words."

"Transferring the mantle would require Molly to die. I won't allow that, and you know it. Period." I forced my jaw to relax, and tilted my head to one side to work out the muscle. I felt something pop in my neck, which immediately started hurting.

Maeve looked completely unconcerned. "Mother foresaw that her Knight would fall in this conflict; it is why she did not wish to claim you as Knight until she had a pawn to hold the position for you."

"Pawn?" Molly spat, and I could hear her fatigue and anger fighting with each other.

"Yes, dear. You were never meant to be the Winter Knight for long; only until now, to keep dear Harry here from being wasted. Granted, I had suspected that you would perish, and that was prevented." She looked at me. "Which may complicate things, if I have any understanding of mortal reasoning."

"I won't let you kill her," I said, rubbing my neck. I still stood between them. One of my knees felt a little shaky. In fact, my entire leg had that restless tension you get when you're overtired and just can't get to sleep… my mind was drifting.

"Silly wizard. I am unable to end any mortal's life, even my own Knight." Her eyes flashed. "But do not think for a moment that you pose a threat or stand as a barrier to me. Your energy is spent."

"Maybe," I said, dropping my staff and pulling out my .44. "But I've got at least two rounds in here that aren't." I pointed the old revolver at her. I couldn't hold my arm out, and I didn't want her knocking it from my hand anyway, so I aimed from the hip, gunslinger style.

"Lead does not scare me, wizard."

"I know. That's why I go through the pain of buying steel-jacketed rounds. They're a little harder to find, but totally worth it."

Maeve's face went deadly serious, and her eyes fixed on the weapon. "You wouldn't dare."

"I've killed one Sidhe Lady. Try me."

After a long stare, one side of her mouth ticked up – her beautiful, full, pouty – dammit! Mind is wandering a little too easily. "Such willfulness… I'll speak plainly, wizard. You have three hours, perhaps four, before the Transit becomes permanent. And I've seen the auxiliary you have at your disposal: vampires, the weakest of their kind; werewolves; a mere handful of wizards, many of them maimed; and many, many scared little mortals, who think they have seen the worst, but will run and hide when they are exposed to what truly waits."

She stepped closer to me, but Mouse interposed himself. Eying him, she stopped moving, saying, "But the Winter Knight could call forth the strength of Winter. An army of fae."

"I could call in back-up?" Molly asked. Why didn't you ever tell me that?"

Maeve looked at her. "You never asked. And it seemed a waste."

I cocked the gun and felt my upper lip peel back involuntarily. One of my eyes starting twitching and I blinked it a few times; my vision got blurry, then cleared. Both of my eyes felt cold and dry.

Maeve's eyes snapped to me, and she took a breath. "You would sacrifice a city – your own – and the lives of over a thousand mortals, to preserve one? And only for a short time?" She tilted her head. "Perhaps I don't understand mortals at all." Her voice, of course, made it sound like she knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Why don't you just heal her? Get her back in fighting shape?"

Maeve made a disgusted face. "I could only do so if it were part of a bargain. As she is currently my Knight, and I have no desire to bargain with her, it is unlikely to happen." She smiled sweetly.

"We don't need your army. I have a Valkyrie who can bring down the wrath of the All-Father taking a nap downstairs."

Maeve's head tilted a little to the side. "That's true. Of course, she is unconscious at the moment. And once she wakes, she will have to send word, then those forces would have to travel here. That would be risky, since they do not know the Ways through this domain. Not to mention that it would be slow."

"Slow?"

"Oh my, wizard, yes. At least six hours, I should say. _If_ time were to hold constant for their sojourn."

Well, so much for _that_.

I grunted, trying to think. We'd done fairly well so far, taking out Mavra and Taira and their small force, but I'd been lucky beyond measure. And the rescue at the Velvet Room could have gone more smoothly, too. Quite a few of the best fighters I knew were either out of the game or walking wounded.

I'd seen what Molly was capable of now; with the strength of the Winter Knight's mantle, I'd be able to keep going, despite my fatigue. I could call up all the reinforcements I needed. Combined with the Wardens and the Norse warriors Gard could eventually get… we'd have an army. We'd have a _chance_.

But Molly would die.

Damn the Sidhe. And damn me for even considering it.

I said nothing. I was too angry to trust myself. There was no sound in the tiny room for a moment except for me shuffling my legs, trying to keep the muscles from shaking.

Then: "Harry," Molly's voice said from behind me. "Harry, you should do it."

My neck snapped back at whiplash speed. It hurt, enough to make me wince. Molly was working herself into a sitting position again.

"Molly, don't let her manipulate you," I said, rubbing my neck again. "You have a choice, you just said so yourself, five minutes ago!"

"I know, Harry."

"So, what the hell?" My voice dropped, all the anger draining out. "I promised your parents I'd get you out of here."

"I _am_ making a choice. I promised them that if I had to, I'd die a good death. I'd die for a good reason. To give you a fighting chance? To save Chicago, and all of the people in it? I can't think of a better one." Molly turned a hard gaze on Maeve. "Right now, I'm nothing but a pawn, anyway."

"In chess," Maeve said, "pawns exist to be sacrificed."

In a low voice I said, "And sometimes, pawns kill queens." I turned back to the Winter Lady. "Though usually, that's a job for a knight." I kept my gun on her. "I won't take it. I won't take anything from you."

"Harry - "

"Forget it, Molly. Give it up if you want to, but knowing that it killed you, I won't take it."

Maeve sighed, rolling her eyes. "So noble." She somehow made it sound like an insult. "Very well. Before you make your decision, you should know something, wizard."

"Yeah? What?"

"Molly need not die permanently."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

_Of course_, Lash whispered.

"Think of where you are, wizard."

"In a priest's bedroom?" I know I was being difficult. Sue me; I was tired.

Maeve rolled her eyes again and put her hands on her hips. "We are in Hell," she said with exaggerated softness. "It is a realm that exists for but one purpose: to contain the souls of mortal dead."

"That's just another reason to say no; if she dies here, her soul would be stuck - " I'm pretty sure there was a buzz-click sound inside my brain as I realized what she meant. "Molly's soul won't… _might_ not depart? Though, if she did die here, she'd be trapped in Hell."

Maeve tilted her head and grinned, Cheshire Cat style. "Well, it would take not inconsiderable effort on my part, and on yours, but in the end, I could remove the mantle, put dear Molly's soul back where it belongs, and gift you with the power of Winter." She paused, her expression growing serious. "Decide quickly."

'Could', she'd said. Not the same as 'will'.

I paused. _Am I crazy?_

I wasn't expecting an answer, but Lash whispered, _Possibly_.

Get the strength and endurance I needed to save Chicago – _maybe_ – and more importantly, get Molly out of her bargain. This was the only way I was going to find to do that – Maeve and Mab were too clever to let me have the opportunity ever again. Manipulative bitches that they were, they'd waited until I was desperate and dangled this prize right in front of me. Maybe I was crazy. There had to be another way… didn't there?

"Harry," Molly said again. I looked at her, and she nodded. "Do it," she whispered.

Time was tight. I was on my last legs. I'd made a promise to Molly, and to Charity.

What the hell. I was in deep as it was. I made a snap decision and turned back to the Winter Lady. "Promise me," I said.

Her head jerked back as if I'd slapped her. "I beg your pardon?"

"Promise me that Molly will survive."

She hesitated. Fae _hate_ making promises. It ties back to the no lying rule – if they make a promise that they cannot fulfil… well, it's occasionally been known to completely destroy the faerie involved.

I tried not to grin like an idiot. If she wanted to play hardball, she'd find I had a nasty swing.

Her eyes narrowed. "I freely give a promise to attempt to preserve Molly's life."

"Not good enough. Not even in the right ZIP code."

She paused again, her eyes never leaving me. There was no sound in the little room but for my breath; Mouse and Molly were both holding theirs. "It would be conditional," she finally said.

"Not a problem. I've got a few conditions before I accept, too."

"It would require the Fires of Creation."

"Soulfire? I'm running a little low."

"Nonetheless, it is required."

I glanced at Molly, saw hope and fear warring on her face. "Fine. What else?"

"Harry, no, you won't survive that!"

"I can make choices, too, Molls. _What else_?"

"Swear on your power that you will accept the mantle, and not end your own life to escape it."

I paused, but only for a second to infuse my words with my intent. "I swear, on my word and on my magic, that I will accept the mantle of the Winter Knight, and fulfil the office to the best of my abilities. And I will never attempt to end my own life to end my obligation." She smiled. I continued, "Provided, of course that I am never set against those I care about and love." Her smile vanished.

"You presume a great deal, wizard."

"I've not yet begun to presume. But I think we're both taking what we can get here. I also want you to heal Molly, and everyone else here."

"Don't be a fool, wizard. They have their own free will; I cannot alter them without bargains made."

Of course not. I grimaced and rubbed my eyes. Damn, but I was tired. I could only hope I was thinking straight enough for this. But that was a flawed thought; if I was thinking straight, I'd be dodging this situation entirely. She'd waited until I was tired to come to me. She'd waited until I wasn't thinking straight at all.

Brilliant.

"Are you satisfied, wizard?"

I almost said yes. Then I glanced at my apprentice – my friend – again. The fear I'd heard in her voice, the pain and humiliation… "You'll not break me."

Maeve smiled. "Greater men than you have said such."

"No, I mean as part of this arrangement. I do your bidding, sure. I follow orders. But I do it my way. No interference, no manipulation; you just give me a goal to accomplish, and let me be. No trying to turn me into just another thug." Her face was unreadable. My mouth ran on without me. "I don't think that's why you want me, anyway." Realization clicked again. "You could have just about anyone you want as Knight. You and Mab want me because I'm _not_ just a thug."

Maeve's head shook side to side, ever so slightly. "Willful, strong, and perceptive. Mother is correct: a definite improvement over poor Lloyd. I agree to your conditions, wizard, including the promise, _if_ you agree to mine."

I thought furiously for a second, but nothing else came to mind. I had the damnedest feeling I was forgetting something vital, but naturally I couldn't think of what it was. "I do."

"So mote be it."

I felt a tingle – a wave, really – of cold run up my spine. Then it was gone. Maeve turned to Molly. "Lie still," she said. Molly gave me a worried look, then lay back.

Maeve looked down at Mouse. "You should remove yourself." Mouse tilted his head and made no sound I could hear. Maeve lifted an eyebrow. "If you insist." Mouse moved to stand beside me, and to stare at Maeve, but he was no longer between us. I touched his head in gratitude.

"So when do we do this?" I asked.

She looked over her shoulder. "Why, immediately."

I drew in a breath. "I need to tell - "

"Time is short, wizard. You know what marches ever closer. Transit, and the unnatural foe."

"Unnatural?"

"You know of whom I speak. He who taunts death. He who injured Mother."

I nodded slowly, pieces falling into place. "Cowl. The beating sounds, in the distance; he's raised an army of dead, hasn't he? And he's the one who injured Mab?"

"Mother is the power of Winter given form. She is a force of nature. His power is unnatural. He violates the law of nature that the White Council and the Courts agree upon."

"Well, Winter does."

"Indeed. Titania's actions grow ever more unpredictable. All the more reason to hurry."

I looked down at Molly one more time. She was angry, mostly, but also tired. She reminded me of how Ebenezar had looked just a few days ago, worry supplanting energy, fear overriding confidence, weariness destroying joy. "Okay," I said. "How do we do this?"

"Is it not obvious, wizard?" Her voice seemed gleeful, and my neck instantly started to itch. "I am unable to end a mortal life. You must now kill Molly."

**Dresden**.

The sound of Demonreach's voice rolled through my head, though it was now distant, rather than right in my ear. The effect wasn't as pronounced as it had been before, so instead of collapsing, I just _almost_ collapsed. A wave of weakness rolled over me, then it was gone. Mouse kept me standing by acting as a living crutch.

Every time I was weak, or felt helpless, that damn island somehow managed to get a word into my head. Why? And more importantly, how?

"Wizard?"

Well, time for islands will have to be later. "No," I said, barely lifting a finger to point at Maeve. "No, you said she didn't have to die."

"_Permanently_. It is the only way to extract the mantle."

"So what's the Soulfire for?"

"When her soul attempts to escape, you will contain it."

"Contain it?"

"Box it in, my Knight-in-waiting. Prevent it from fleeing."

I looked down at Molly, who was staring up at me, her expression full of sadness, and just a touch of fear. "Harry, if it doesn't work - "

"It'll work," I said, putting as much granite into my voice as I could… which wasn't much, I admit.

"If it doesn't," she said again, "say good-bye to my family for me."

I tried to kneel down, but it became a fall. I hurt one of my knees, winced. I put my gun away and took her hand. "You're not going to die. She promised, and I promise."

On side of her mouth ticked up at that, then drooped again. "Why'd you call me Molls?"

I shrugged. "I was saving it for when you stopped being my apprentice. You know, when you were all grown up, like when I stopped calling Will, 'Billy.' Though in this case, I think you grew up a while ago, and I just had to finally accept it."

She smirked again, then glanced up at Maeve. "Will it hurt?"

"Oh, yes," the Winter Lady said, "very much so."

Molly sighed, then clamped her jaw and nodded to herself. My teeth ground together, too. I'd have offered to put her to sleep, but I wasn't sure I had the mojo to do so. "All right," she said. "Let's get this over with."

"Right," I said, suddenly hesitant. I didn't let go of her hand. Over my shoulder, I asked, "So, any recommendations on how?"

"One," Maeve said, putting a hand on shoulder. I flinched a little; she didn't react. "Construct a container from the Fires of Creation, surrounding her. Then, move the container."

I looked up at her. "That's it?"

"You cannot damage her body, lest it fail once we are done. Simply ripping the soul from her is much more efficient." I managed to suppress a horrified shudder, but just barely. Molly's whole body went rigid for a second, but she didn't say anything. "The sooner we begin, the sooner we shall finish," Maeve said.

I heard Mouse growl, low and steady. Maeve finally withdrew her hand.

Molly gave my hand a squeeze, then let go and turned her head to look right at the ceiling. She closed her eyes, linked her hands over her belly and her lips started moving; she was praying.

Well, every little bit helps, I guess. I pushed myself up and took a step back. "A container?" I asked.

"I will guide you," Maeve said.

Maeve gave me some instructions, then I built a box in my mind. It was probably going to be the simplest use I'd ever put Soulfire to. I visualized encasing Molly, but the first mental image I had was of a coffin, and I dismissed it with a shake. Instead, I pictured a cocoon, like a butterfly would emerge from.

It took way too long to get the image to hold steady; exhaustion had left my concentration completely shot.

"Okay," I finally said once the image solidified, "I've got it."

"Create it," Maeve said – no. She _commanded_. I was too tired, and circumstances were too dire, to say something snarky. Instead, I looked down at Molly, arms crossed over abdomen, who looked back and nodded at me. I extended my hands, took a deep breath, and touched Soulfire.

Instantly, my fatigue was worse. I'm pretty sure every muscle in my body started objecting at once. My soul itself flowed out of me, into the air, and down around Molly, encircling her in a bright, translucent bluish-white light, beginning at her feet and working its way up. As I stood there, my arms began to shake; I felt myself swaying, but Mouse shored me up on one side and Maeve braced me on the other.

The cocoon wrapped around Molly, nearly skin-tight, and just as it began to cover her face, she closed her eyes again.

I stopped pushing as the cocoon finished; I was barely conscious. I hadn't pushed this much Soulfire since my trip back in time with McCoy that sort of set off this whole mess, and now the mere act of not falling seemed border-line impossible.

My arms fell, and I struggled to pull in a breath. Molly lay there on the bed, wrapped in what looked like a loaf of bread made out of silvery water.

"Now," Maeve whispered, "lift it."

I took a few deep breaths, fighting to keep my concentration; we had one shot at doing this correctly. One shot at keeping Molly alive. One shot at saving Chicago and everyone in it, really.

No pressure.

"Let me kneel," I gasped out. Maeve held my arm and lowered me to my knees. She did it with great ease, probably born of a great deal of practice.

I wasn't breathing right. My vision wasn't exactly tunnelling, but I was taking an extra second to recognize objects in my periphery – yes, that is a lamp, yes, that is a bedpost.

I managed to get my hands stretched out again, resting them on the mattress itself, palms up. I saw Molly's eyes open, saw her breathing quicken. She looked at me. I hesitated.

"Lift it, wizard."

"I don't… I don't know - "

"You have no time, and no more pleasant alternative. _Lift it_."

I stared at my friend for another full second, trying to talk myself out of it, but Maeve was right. I'd already made the decision, and was simply putting it off. "Forgive me, grasshopper." I slid my hands under the edge of the cocoon, and bent my arms, at the same time willing it – and the soul it now encircled – up.

Molly screamed, briefly.

I did not stop.

I lights flickered, and when the lamp in the room came back on, it wasn't as bright as it had been, and there was a decidedly red tone to the light. The shadows were thicker, the contrast between light and dark much less definite.

Some of the shadows appeared to be moving.

I lifted until the cocoon was several inches above Molly's body – and it was just her body, now. She lay limp, lifeless. No movement, not even breath. Her mouth was till open in that scream, and her eyes are glassy, staring at the ceiling. A cold, solid feeling burst into existence in my gut, and I felt tears coming on; I'd just killed her. Ripped her soul out like a band-aid off a paper-cut.

"Now," the Winter Lady said, "as I told you."

I closed my eyes, tight, and it was so tempting to just collapse and never open them again, just go to sleep and be done. That wasn't an option, though. I focussed on a spot in the middle of my forehead – a place some folks would call a chakra point – and opened a small window into what was left of my soul. My Sight came up as I opened my eyes again.

Molly's body hadn't moved, but it was now covered in a jumble of colour and not-colour, fading blues and oranges of life and determination along with slowly disappearing reds of passion and greens of sympathy, along with the encroaching grey of death, all slowly being supplanted by a complete, solid black from those shadows.

I ripped my eyes away from Molly's body, and its echoes of life, looking up… and there was Molly, too.

Within the cocoon, a transparent outline of my friend floated, a rainbow of colours washing over her from one end to the other. Disappointment, fear, frustration, pain and relief all took their turn. These colours were bright, vibrant, _alive_ in a way those on her body were not. Her outline was pushing against the cocoon, head whipping back and forth, her hair weightlessly flying about, legs thrashing, arms flailing. She was trapped.

And the shadows were encircling her. The blackness had grown out of the shadows, leapt off the walls and was now reaching for her, grabbing at the soul of a good woman, trying to break down the barrier I'd placed in the way.

Hell itself wanted her.

Something that was somehow both blood-red and silver-white flowed out of her, coalescing into an orb, floating just to the side of her hip. It flowed together from every glassy molecule of her, weaving together into a ball and bumping into the barrier I'd created, trying to get out, aiming over my shoulder, trying to get to Maeve.

"It's separated," I breathed.

"Good, wizard," Maeve said from over my shoulder. "Close your Eye."

I closed all my eyes, though she was only referring to the Sight. I didn't want to see even a portion of Maeve with my Eye open, and especially not this close; I'd once caught a glimpse – just a _glimpse_ - of Titania, from several miles away with the Sight up, and I'd come very close to melting my brain. The closest I can come to describing it is, imagine looking directly into the Sun, while the Sun is looking into _you_.

When I opened my normal eyes again, the shadows were just shadows, and the cocoon appeared empty. Maeve was reaching into it, and appeared to be in ecstasy; she was reclaiming the Winter Knight's mantle, that portion of the power of Winter that contained just a hint of each and every Knight to have held it before; just enough mortal essence to make it bounce off the barrier. Maeve, having no soul at all, was unimpeded.

She sighed and withdrew her hand. "Now, put her back."

I lowered the cocoon as quickly as I could, bringing up my Sight again as I did. The physical act of lifting and lowering was only symbolic for me, since it was the application of will that would actually move the cocoon. However, I was so tired that I needed all the help I could get to focus. Once again, the riot of colour that was my friend's purest essence sprang to life, surrounded by a barrier of energy that seemed to be trying to jump at me.

And once again, tendrils of darkness surrounded the barrier.

The Soulfire construct settled over Molly's body, and I waited, hoping. This was the one thing she would have to do for herself: return to her body, willingly. I watched the transparent echo of my former apprentice writhe, then stiffen. She looked around, as though recognizing something, then she settled back. With a smile, her head leaned back…

Molly shuddered and tried to sit up, gasping in breath. The cocoon vanished, and with it, the shadows. I jerked away, toppling flat on my back, clamping my eyes shut and just breathing for a moment. I heard her struggling to get air in, felt myself having the same problem.

There was a slight groan to her voice. I forced my eyes – just my normal ones – open. Mouse licked my cheek. It was warm, and a little wet, and actually felt good, compared to the rest of my body, which just felt… empty.

I was numb.

Lash appeared over me, smiling. _You did it_, she said without saying.

_Yeah. How about that?_

She reached out a hand to stroke my face, and I saw that it was burned. Horribly. It looked like my left hand had after Mavra scorched it. I wasn't repulsed, or shocked. I didn't even really feel any surprise. I didn't really feel anything.

_What happened? _I only asked out of habit.

She didn't answer.

_It was the Soulfire, wasn't it?_

She smiled a sad smile and shrugged one shoulder. _It had to be slowed, somehow._

Maeve got a hand on my shoulder and yanked me to my feet. I got a half-second of vertigo as I passed through Lash, then I was looking down at Molly again. She was sitting up, leaning against the wall, covered in sweat, her hands on her broken leg. Her breathing was strained, her teeth were clenched together, her hair wet and sticking to her. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were closed tight.

"Molly?" I said. "You okay?"

Her eyes opened, but she otherwise didn't move. "They wanted me," she gasped out. "They were trying to get me. The shadows."

"They didn't get you. You're safe." There was no infection to my voice. That seemed wrong, for some reason, but I couldn't put my finger on why.

"I hurt," she said. "Everywhere. So much. I think I need an aspirin."

"Maybe a Tylenol 3?" I made the joke, but mostly from habit, I think. I didn't smile with it. I just didn't feel the need.

"That would work," she said around a tiny laugh. She grimaced as the chuckle went through her body.

"Keep laughing. It'll release endorphins."

She snorted. "Unless endorphins are made of Vicodin, they won't help much." She sagged against the wall, eyes closed again, her breathing ragged.

In some part of my brain, I thought I could reach out and put a hand on her arm. I could go get help, someone to make sure her leg was bound properly. I could give her a hug. I did none of those things. I noted, in a very cold, detached way, that the usual imperative I had for those kinds of actions simply wasn't there. Logically, I knew I should do something, but the emotional drive was just lacking.

Lash appeared in my periphery, and I turned my head to her.

_Harry?_ She looked very concerned about something.

_Yeah?_

_Are you alright?_

_I think so. Why?_

Her face went from concerned to scared. _You are… hollow._

_Not sure I understand._

_You are emotionally… dead. Your soul is almost gone._

_So this is what happens when your soul is almost gone? _I felt no fear, no concern_. Interesting._

Lash looked horrified.

Maeve grabbed my shoulder, turned me to look at her. "Now, wizard." Her eyes had a slightly manic look, wide and a little glassy.

"Now what?"

"I must impart the mantle."

"Right this second?"

"You have no time to waste, dear Harry."

I looked over my shoulder at Molly. She had one eye open. She nodded at me. "Alright." I turned back to the Winter Lady. "What's required?"

"An act," she said, putting both hands on my chest, "of intimacy." I vaguely noted that her breathing had changed, becoming quicker, shallower.

I felt no reaction at all, beyond simple curiosity. "How intimate?"

She smiled. "As intimate as I wish," she said, and pushed herself up on her toes. At the same time, she got her hands behind my neck and pulled me down. As the kiss started, there was a large shock of static electricity on my mouth. I tried to jerk back, but her grip was solid. Then I felt myself falling.

I wasn't falling to the floor; I was falling from miles up, the cold air of a winter's gale was raging around us, and the press of her body against mine, her lips against mine, the only source of warmth. I pulled closer instinctively.

I was naked, she was naked, and we were tumbling through the air of the night. I found my body responding in its natural way. As we fell, there was still no fear, no pain, no fatigue; only strength, and warmth, flowing from Maeve's lips into me and slowly growing.

I felt myself growing stronger. I felt my focus and concentration returning. I felt my burdens growing lighter.

I felt my emotions returning. I felt alive and energized in a way I hadn't realised was possible. I felt anger and frustration, but also relief, determination, _joy_, I felt _life itself_, total, uncompromised and overwhelming.

I felt _power_.

We kept falling, but there was no ground rushing up to meet us; we were as a leaf in a tornado, whipping about in whatever direction nature wanted. There was no up, no down, only movement and energy.

The need to cry out, to release the power overwhelmed me, and my voice welled up, a shout starting in the bottom of my lungs and racing up my throat. I ripped my mouth from hers, yelling in triumph.

The gale was gone. I was back my body, back Fraser's room. I was down on one knee, staring up at the Winter Lady as she looked down at me, hers hands still linked behind my neck. She licked her lips. "My Knight," she whispered, breathless, smirking.

I swallowed, the joy and relief draining away, leaving me with fear and uncertainty. I guess any emotion was better than none at all. "My Lady," I answered.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Wow, been a while since the last update. Apologies, no excuses. I've been busy and don't see that changing. Anyway, I hope you all continue to enjoy; if my calculations are correct, there are about 4-5 chapters left in this story.**

After the transfer of the mantle, Maeve took off, vanishing into whatever part of the Nevernever she'd come from, with only the admonition that, "Time is short, sweet Harry. Do Winter proud."

I raided Father Fraser's small bathroom to give Molly a healthy dose of Tylenol and some water. She was lying down again, pillows and blankets arranged to make her as comfortable as possible. The snowflake brand, Maeve's mark, had vanished, her skin healed. I was silently thankful I hadn't been given one. Molly's eyes were sunken and heavy, pretty much the way I figured mine had looked before the mantle passed. I handed the pills over with a glass.

"Thanks."

"Best I could do. The priests aren't known for their hook-ups."

She let out a weak laugh, then gulped down what she could. I sat on the edge of the bed. "You're always doing that."

"What?"

"The best you can. Always helping. Always trying to save _me_, specifically."

"Yeah, well, if I'd been better about that, you wouldn't be in this mess right now."

She sighed. "Not every problem is yours to fix, Harry. I'm an adult. But still… I owe you one."

"Actually, that's two you owe me, junior."

She half-smiled and it took a lot out of her. "We all do the best we can, I guess. Deal the best we can." She paused, looked me in the eye. "I know you don't love me."

Hadn't been expecting that. "Uh, Molly, I - "

"I mean, in _that_ way. Not like I… Not the _same_ way." Her eyes started fluttering. "It's pretty obvious how you feel. And about who." She yawned and squeezed my hand. "You need to go. There's not much time, and you have a fight to win."

I looked down at her, squeezed back. "Rest, Molls. I'll see you soon."

Her eyes were now closed. "Maybe. Hopefully. Go on. I'll be fine."

And she was out. I snagged the water glass and dropped it back on the nightstand. I looked down at Mouse. He stared right back. "If I tell you to watch her, you will, won't you?"

He looked at Molly, then back at me. He made a tiny little whining sound and tilted his head, but huffed at me.

"I knew you would." I looked at my apprentice again, worry starting to cloud my thoughts_._ She had to be protected, but then, so did every other person in this place.

_You have a fight to win_.

I shook my head. "But screw that. You and the Alphas are the closest thing I've got to a cavalry. Come on."

He huffed again, and it sounded much happier. I opened the door to the hall and, leaving it open just a little so Molly wouldn't have to wake up in the dark, we headed downstairs.

I could see several people walking by the bottom of the stairs, all of them looking like they were in a hurry. At the top of the stairs, there was a murmur in the air. By the middle of the stairway, it had grown to a din. By the time I was three steps from ground level, it was like being in a train station during rush hour. As Mouse and I reached the last step, Will, in a loose t-shirt and sweats, appeared.

"Harry." He stepped up a stair to avoid more traffic.

"Will. What did I miss?"

"Some Wardens and Guardsmen came busting in the front door about ten minutes ago, raised a ruckus."

I couldn't resist. "Could you describe the ruckus?"

That got a snort. "One of them was Warden Luccio. She went straight to the back door, and looked pretty worried. She dragged Mr. McCoy with her." He paused. "I think that demonstration you gave is finally starting to sink in. People are talking."

I nodded. "Good. They need to. I've got to go talk to Ana." I stepped down.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" I looked back. He was staring at me, with his head tilted just a little to the side.

"Are you okay?"

"Why?"

"You seem… different."

I took a breath. "Come with me. I'll explain outside."

He fell in with me and Mouse, and we went past the back room, now a makeshift infirmary. I glanced in and saw Hendricks, Gard and Marcone all pushed close in one corner. I didn't know anyone else except for Sanya, and he was checking a splint on a man I didn't know. The others must have moved to the main area of the church. He didn't see me.

I pushed the back door open. As I came through, McCoy and Ana both glanced up. They were standing quite close together. Their only escort was Carlos, standing near the door, the remainder of his left arm covered in a bandage. I didn't see any demons or other twisted entities at the property line.

And I heard the sound of drums and distant, echoing bangs.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" I asked Ramirez.

He snorted. "Shouldn't you get your head out of your ass?" He offered a fist, and I bumped it.

"Hoss?"

"Sir. What's going on?"

He and Luccio exchanged a glance, then she turned and lifted an arm.

Literally.

"Is that - ?" I asked.

"A dead man's forearm, yes," she said. She was wearing gloves, thankfully. Mouse let out a short, deep growl at it.

"I'm probably going to regret this, but where'd it come from?"

"The demons all just suddenly withdrew about twenty minutes ago. I grabbed a few volunteers, and we went after some stragglers. We lost them, but we found a small group of reanimated corpses."

"Zombies."

"Yes."

"Everybody okay?"

"We got away cleanly." She looked at her grotesque trophy. "It almost wasn't clean, but we managed. We didn't find the drummer."

"Cowl's comin', hoss."

"Yeah. And so is the Transit. We might have three hours left. At the outside." I shook my head. "We either have to hit Schneider head on, disrupt him, hope we ruin his hold on the Transit spell, or we have to go after one of the other big bads."

We all paused, thinking.

"If we had more manpower, my vote would be for hitting the Red Court," McCoy said. "Not many of them are powerful enough to be holding something like this together. Plus we already know their weaknesses, we could deal with them. Zombies… they don't feel pain or fear, or a sense of self-preservation."

Carlos spoke up. "You're saying, no matter how hard we hit them, we'll get steamrolled."

"You remember what it was like four years ago," I said. "Imagine that, but without having to hide it all from the vanillas. No holding back."

Carlos shook his head. "That was a weird night. Don't suppose you could call up that dinosaur again? She was walking heavy artillery."

"Yeah, everybody loved Sue. That's not a bad idea, except the museum with her bones is on the wrong side of the Hellfire wall."

"Too bad we don't have any _real_ heavy artillery," Will said. "And a hill."

We all looked at him. "What do you mean?"

He glanced at each of us, but then said, "You know. Lob bombs at them, from an elevated position. Wipe out large numbers at a distance. If they're bottle-necked, it's even better. It's an RTS strategy." At our blank looks, he clarified, "Real-time strategy game. When the AI – sorry, the artificial intelligence – is too stupid to path-find safely, or withdraw, they're pretty easy to wipe out. They just come at you in waves, and you mow them down, like zombies."

"Yes, the high ground is almost always where you want to be," Ana said.

"Of course, it's why castles always have towers," McCoy said. "But we don't have a castle."

Something started to click. It wasn't a plan, but an idea took root. "We need… we need an elevated position," I said, thinking out loud. "A defensible one, with good lines of sight. So why not a modern castle, like an office building?"

"Windows don't necessarily go all the way around, so you can see what's coming," Will said. "Lots of blind spots. And from a useful height, they won't open. You could smash a few, I guess. Or you could to shoot from the roof, but any building big enough to hold us all would probably be too tall to shoot from with any accuracy. And with all the civilians and wounded, splitting up into a bunch of office towers wouldn't be a good idea."

"And this church won't work?" Carlos asked.

"Not quite," Will said. "In the games, you need a castle or a fort, open on top, so catapults and things can launch over the walls. Same thing applies in real life, just like an office building; the church has a roof, so you can only see or shoot out the windows. You'd have to be up on the roof yourself to get 360o line of sight, and this roof isn't exactly flat."

"Right," I said. "We don't have catapults, but we do have a few wizards who can pack a punch. We just need a place they can punch from safely. A big building, with a low, flat roof. It would have to be a squat shape, like a warehouse. Or… have an _open_ roof…" And the click completed: "A ballpark."

"Yes!" Will said, snapping his fingers. "You want to go to Wrigley?"

I shook my head. "Too far north. We'd have to march right past Cowl and his Thriller crowd, and it might be outside the Hellfire wall anyway. We need to get to Comiskey."

"You mean Cellular Park?"

"Yeah, that one."

He smiled. "The one with the parking lot?"

"Would you let that go?"

"Harry," Ana said, "There are twelve hundred of us, over three hundred of whom are wounded. Most with no weapon, no magic. Moving isn't practical."

I looked at her, then glanced to the northeast, where the beating sound was emanating from… and getting louder. "Cowl and his walking dead aren't demons; they won't be stopped by holy ground. They'll smash into this place like a battering ram, blow through the doors and windows. There won't be three hundred wounded. There'll be twelve hundred dead. And it'll happen soon. Could be an hour, could be minutes."

"He's right, Captain," McCoy said. "There are still vehicles. We load up everyone we can, and we move. See to the evacuation personally. That's an order."

Ana stiffened. "Yes, sir." She gave me a look, then headed for the door. "Warden," she said, and Carlos fell in with her, giving me a nod over his shoulder. Will closed the door behind them.

"All right, hoss," McCoy said. "What happened?"

"I'm sorry?"

"With you. Less than an hour ago, you were ready to topple over. Now you're standing straighter than any of us. What did you do?"

I glanced back at Will. "Told you," he said, and crossed his arms.

I sighed and looked back at McCoy. His eyes were sunken, his skin a little paler than usual. He shifted uncomfortably. He was tired. Exhausted. Like I was supposed to be.

I looked him right in the eye. "I got Molly out of her deal."

He stared back, and I saw the moment when comprehension dawned. He rocked back, his mouth falling open a little. "Oh, hoss."

"Wow," Will said. His voice was small.

"It's done," I said. "I'm the Winter Knight. But Molly's still alive."

"Hell's bells, how did you manage that?"

I shrugged. "Painfully. But I didn't go through all that just for her to die in a zombie tidal wave. While the civilians are moving, I'm going to try to get behind Cowl, slow him down. Take him out, if possible. Or at least disrupt his part of the Transit."

McCoy snorted. "Makes sense, in a suicidally stupid kind of way." He nodded, slowly. "Need some help?"

I thought for a second, tempted. Then I shook my head. "Much as I'd like to have you at my back, I think the civilians will need you more. The ballpark is in the area Mavra and the Jades controlled, but I wouldn't be surprised if the Reds have spread out. They'll need you more than I will."

He grunted and made a face, but he couldn't argue with me.

I turned to Will. "Like the man said, I'm about to do something stupid. I can't ask the Alphas to back me up."

Will just shook his head. "You know we're coming with you."

I smiled. "I figured, but I wouldn't speak for you. And your reservist is coming along." I patted Mouse's neck.

"What's the plan?"

"Mostly, I need you to draw attention while I sneak up behind the bad guys and throw trolls at him."

"_That's_ your plan?" McCoy asked. "Where are you going to get trolls?"

I turned back to him. "It's not the worst plan I've ever come up with, sir. And the trolls are waiting for me to call. However, the whole thing does hinge on something."

"And what's that?"

I dug into a pocket, and pulled out the pouch containing the Black Key. "Can you show me a better way to use this? I'm sick of walking for hours before I get anywhere."

My grandfather smiled.

Thomas carried Molly, whose leg was splinted with duct tape and the pieces of a shattered cupboard door. She was out cold. I walked with them toward the church's main doors, moving slowly as the mass of humanity spilled out once again into the parking lot. We inched our way over to the confessional, where Will, Georgia and Mouse were waiting.

"It's probably cliché of me to ask at this point," my brother said, "but, are you sure about this?"

"I'd ask you to come, but I barely trust Lara, and you're the only one I really think can keep an eye on her. No one else can keep up with the Pooch Patrol, here." Billy raised his chin in pride. Georgia put a hand on his shoulder.

I looked back into the crowd to find Faith Astor working her way over to us, her aunt and uncle in tow, and her new friend Alex beside her. "Harry," she said when she got close enough, "aren't you coming?"

I shook my head. "Bad guy's coming over the horizon. I have to ride out and meet him."

"So, you're leaving us in the hands on amateurs?"

"Yes, actually. This is my brother."

She looked at Thomas, and I watched her eyes widen. "Oh, uh. Hi."

He flashed his trademarked winning grin. "Hi yourself."

"Uh, you're… uh, not as tall as Harry."

"I prefer to think he's not as good looking as I am."

"Yeah, I can see that."

I smacked him in the shoulder. "Enough of that."

"Faith," her aunt Jessica said, tugging on her shoulder, "we have to go." She glanced up at Thomas, did a double take, and just kind of paused, appreciatively.

"Right. Be careful, Mr. Wizard."

They stepped back, and Alex took a step closer. "Hey."

"Hey," I said. He looked a little confused.

"Look, I kind of want to thank you. You know, for showing us… everything. But at the same time, I kind of want to punch you in the face for the same thing."

I nodded in understanding. "I get that a lot."

He glanced at Faith, then raised a fist for me. I bumped it. "Take care, wherever you're going. There are people counting on you." Then he turned a walked away, pulling Faith and her aunt with him.

"He's kind of a Donny Downer," Thomas said.

"Yeah, but he's also willing to open his eyes," Georgia said.

"Too true," I agreed. "All right, where are the others?"

"Out back, waiting for us," Will said.

"Meet you out there?"

"Sure." The Bordens set off, moving against the now-thinning crowd. I turned to my brother again. "I'll see you soon."

"You'd better."

I looked at Molly, still asleep in Thomas' uncomplaining arms. "Take care of her."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't get all mushy on me, princess." I gave him my best glare, which he politely ignored. "Don't do anything suicidal."

"You mean more than usual?"

"Exactly."

"Deal." I hesitated.

"What's wrong?"

"It's - " I cut myself off. McCoy had promised to tell him, but that had been weeks ago…

"Harry? She's not getting any lighter."

Ah, hell. "McCoy's my grandfather."

"Your – but, I thought your dad was a vanilla."

"He was. McCoy is my _maternal_ grandfather."

"Oh. Wait, that means - " It was his turn to cut himself off. His eyes got wide. "_Now_? You're laying this on me _now_?"

"He's been promising to tell you, but never seems to get around to it. And if this little jaunt goes wrong… you deserved to know."

"Yeah, okay, I mean, I guess, it's just… _wow_. Bit of a bomb to drop, bro."

"I know. I didn't want you to find out this way. Stars and stones, Thomas, I've been trying not to tell you for ages, because he said he would, but…"

"No, it's okay, Harry. It's fine. Just a lot to take in."

We were silent for a second. Then he snickered. "Did he really use the Force on Lara, out on the island?"

"Reached out his hand, lifted her off the ground in a death-choke, without even touching her. Or looking at her."

He whistled. "Awesome."

"I thought so."

"Okay. Live through this. We'll have a family re-union after."

"I'll be there."

"Hey, you want me to tell Fix? The whole Winter Knight thing seems like something he should know about."

I tried to nod and shake my head at the same time; it came out looking like a shiver. "I hadn't even… you know what? It doesn't matter. He'll figure it out when he sees Molly, anyway."

With a nod, he moved into the crowd and out the door. I headed along a wall towards the back of St. Mary's. A hand reached out and touched my elbow.

I started, head snapping around. "Elaine?"

She smiled, but the expression was strained. "I just wanted to say good luck."

"Yeah, you too. Save me a seat at the ballpark."

We stood there a moment, silent. She looked uncomfortable. Her eyes danced back and forth, looking into each of mine. Then she smirked, reached up, grabbed my collar and pulled my face down. She kissed me.

And I kissed back. A bit.

But not a lot.

She pulled back, looking confused at first. Her tiny smile vanished.

"Elaine - "

She put a hand on my chest, not looking at my face. "Later, Harry. If we both survive." She turned and walked away, not looking back. After a second, I did the same.

Outside, the troops were gathered, and wearing their fur jackets, except for Will. The drum beat that necromancers used to replace the heartbeat of their raised minions was even louder. They couldn't have been more than a few blocks away now. "Okay!" I said. "The game plan is simple: you're drawing them southeast, trying to convince the horde that we all went that way. Some will buy it, some won't. If you get a chance, take some down, but carefully. Most of the bodies that are reanimated won't feel pain, and they'll be faster and stronger than the average, especially the older ones. Any questions?"

Will doffed his sweatpants as he asked, "What will you be doing? Just in case you need back-up."

"Once you're underway, I'll use a warp pipe to get in behind Cowl and unleash Winter," I finished. "I'll try to get his daughter to help, but I'm doubtful. Get a move on, and good luck."

Will just stared at me. "Warp pipe?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I have to stop reading your old video game magazines."

Billy grinned, shimmered, and was replaced by a large wolf. It wasn't dramatic, but it was kind of cool. He barked once then led the whole pack away, heading east, Mouse bringing up the rear. I hoisted my borrowed staff and set off to the north, hoping to find a place where I could observe the mass of moving dead until Cowl came into view.

If McCoy's instructions were correct, I just needed to be able to see my destination before ducking into the Black Hall; then the next door I came to would open as close as possible to my target. In theory, at least.

I jogged. The effects of Hell itself weren't as pronounced as they had been before; I didn't feel any sudden weight or loss of strength as I left St. Mary's grounds. Weakening the Transit had helped. I only hoped it was enough for all the civilians I'd left behind.

I followed the sound of the drumbeat, ever louder, as I moved around broken storefronts and abandoned cars, cracked apartments and uneven roads. I slowed as I came to a corner, hugging the brick of a strip mall. I glanced up, and found myself up beside a Burger King. I took it as a good omen.

The drum beat was so close now I could feel it in my feet, and maybe a little in my head. The dead could be just around the corner. I drew a breath, concentrated, and pulled a veil around myself. The already-dark world darkened more, but it happened more quickly than it should have, and I felt no weakness, no drain on my body. The power of Winter was flowing through me, and I felt a little chill run down my spine.

I shook my head; I'd deal with that situation later. If I survived this one.

I poked my head around the corner cautiously, despite the veil. It never hurts to be careful when dealing with the undead.

As Cowl's horde came into view, I realized I'd forgotten something, something that probably would have occurred to me earlier, if I hadn't been tired and distracted. Something that made perfect sense, since Cowl and Kumori - Klaus and Mathilde - didn't have to hide themselves or their cronies on this trip. "Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," I said.

I'd forgotten that Lincoln Park Zoo was in their part of town.

There are a couple of reasons older bodies are favoured by necromancers; one is that the older ones are more powerful. They have more power poured into them during the raising; they're harder to raise, but once they're up and moving, they're stronger than living humans or recent dead.

Of course, 'stronger than living humans' doesn't really enter into consideration when you're working with a freaking _elephant herd_.

Several feelings and thoughts ripped through my mind when I saw three of the van-sized mammals marching down the street towards me: revulsion that Cowl had killed the animals, respect at how awesome the idea was, disgust with myself for thinking it was awesome, and relief that they weren't dinosaurs.

Then a little fear started to sink in, and I started backing away. A zombie elephant would crush a foolish wizard just as easily as a living one would – if not more so, being directed as it was by its raiser's will. "Lash," I whispered to myself, "what now?"

She stepped into my vision, staring at the elephants marching down the street. "I would suggest you run."

"Not a bad idea." I backed away a few more feet. I needed a door, a crossroads. Waiting for the Alphas to create a distraction was likely to get me crushed. I turned.

I stopped, if you'll pardon the pun, dead. There was another pack of pachyderms tromping down the street from the other direction. These were a little farther away, but rapidly closing the gap, nudging random things like cars out of their way without noticing. I was in a T-intersection; my choices were to retreat the way I'd come, thus defeating the purpose of coming this way in the first place, or to dash across the street and hide in the doorway of an old apartment building.

I chose to dash. I ran across the street, over a sinkhole and around a Toyota hatchback with four flat tires, then into the alcove of the building's twisted, hanging door. I stopped, not even breathing heavy after the sprint, and watched as both Hanniballian lines stomped towards the intersection, each finally stopping less than thirty feet from me.

I'd been so occupied with the elephants – each obviously undead, their eyes wide but glazed, jaws unmoving, trunks still – that I hadn't really noticed the infantry with them. There had to be 2000 or so of them, lined up, standing stock still, each and every one of them in some state of decomposition. Two thousand or so dead people, some who had died in the tumult of the last few days, others who had obviously been stitched back together from just a few bones and lots of necromantic energy.

Jaws hanging open, eyes – when they had eyes – staring, glassy. Some were wearing obvious burial clothes – slightly dirty suits and dresses. Some were wearing newer clothes, but bloodstained; obviously they'd never been buried. A few had no clothing, or even skin, and simply glowed a sickly green in a vaguely human shape. They stood roughly shoulder to shoulder, blocking the entire road.

Okay. I supposed I could bring out Winter's big guns right now, but even trolls were going to have their hands full with something the size of an elephant. Then there was the field of slack-jawed gawkers. Overpowering them just didn't seem like a good option.

I looked back and forth at the lines of walking dead, hearing the drum beat coming closer. Cowl, or at least his drummer, likely Kumori, would be here any second, then it was a straight charge down the street at St. Mary's. I could stop and wait for the Alphas to get into position, or I could act myself. But what the hell could I do that would be big enough that it wouldn't get me squished to death in less than a minute?

A tiny scratching sound just behind me made me turn. I looked down, and saw a thin rat scurrying across some debris before vanishing into a shadowy crack under a door in the lobby. I looked up and actually took in the building; it was dilapidated. Not just damaged in the earthquakes, but in rough shape before that. It was, to use the colloquialism, a rat trap.

I glanced back at the elephants, some of them now moving, just a little, as their living natures tried to assert themselves through the control the necromancers had placed on them. They were restless, and I thought, a little anxious.

Perfect.

I squeezed through the broken door, trying not to make too much noise. In a relatively clear spot on the floor, I dragged my staff in a circle through the dust, and invested the image with a little energy as it closed. I had to drop my veil in order to focus on my new working, but I was deep enough in shadow not to be worried. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and consulted silently with Lash for about ten seconds.

Then I started to shape a spell. As you might have guessed, I'm a big fan of fighting fire with more and bigger fire. But sometimes, that's just not an option. Sometimes, you need to fight a fire with a _smaller_ fire; ask any firefighter burning out a break fire in a forest or grassy plain.

"_Surrecti, surrecto, surrecta_," I murmured. I repeated the incantation, then reached out with my right hand, breaking the circle and releasing the spell into the old building, while my left hand started quickly slapping my thigh.

After another five seconds, I heard a tiny scratching sound, followed by a massive one. Five more seconds, and about 100 tiny, vaguely glowing forms of mice and rats emerged from the floors and walls. Another 100 or so followed, and still more after that. I'd just literally raised my own army in less than a minute.

Hannibal had nothing on the Pied Piper.

It's a myth that elephants are afraid of mice. In truth, they're not really afraid of much at all – it comes with being the biggest of the big. But elephants do get restless and they do get angry. And given Cowl's usual MO, any aggressiveness in their natures would have been amplified during the raising.

I kept a steady beat on my leg with my hand as I poked my re-veiled head out the door. Still no sign from the Alphas. I was starting to worry. But the loud, powerful beat keeping the Alps-Crossers from freaking out on each other was very close now – maybe only a block away.

"You honestly believe this will work?" Lash asked, stepping into view again.

"Overpowering this army simply isn't going to happen. I needed to think smaller."

Now or never.

I focussed on the little helpers I'd recruited, and fed them my intentions; they dashed out into the street, and around and around the feet of the elephants.

The human zombies didn't even notice; they were firmly in thrall. However, the other reason necromancers prefer human corpses is that, once raised, they're easier to control. The imposed control was imperfect at best, because humans and most animals think differently. The best Cowl could really do was impose an intent, or an emotion. And thankfully, it looked like he'd tried for anger. Each of the elephants instantly began agitating.

When I had the great fortune to ride Sue the tyrannosaurus through Chicago, I'd only been able to guide her; outright control was iffy. So, I'd done the next best thing, and tried to channel her natural actions and emotions into what I needed. Basically, I'd suggested that she kill and eat zombies rather than living people. I hoped Cowl's control of the elephants was as tenuous, particularly with so many human dead to focus on.

It was just a little motion, a shuffling of feet, a slight shifting of weight, but they were obviously bothered by the Mighty Mice. Not enough to crack, but getting there. I poked my head out a little farther, looking towards the source of the beat.

The crowd on my left was parting like the Red Sea (Dead Sea? Thank you, I'll be here all week!) I could see over most of the dead-heads (Ba-dum-tish!) I could just make out a dark figure moving down the opened lane, from the shoulders up. His hood was up. Klaus Schneider. Cowl.

Would he sense my necromantic working? Hopefully not, or at least not until it was too late. In the meantime, I needed him to be near a door, or at least a wall. Getting behind him, even with the Black Hall, was impossible if he was flanked on all sides by his mindless soldiers. Oh, what I wouldn't have given for a sniper rifle at that moment. Or at least a few well-tossed sticks of dynamite. A distraction would help, immensely. "I'm getting worried," I whispered to Lash. "Where were the Alphas?"

Behind Cowl, the source of the drumming sound finally came into view. Up against the wall of my apartment building, I scrambled up on top of an old, empty newspaper dispenser, trying to be a quiet as possible, and holding against the wall as best I could; it was the only way the veil would be effective.

It was a marching band. Not a school band; there were no uniforms, and none of the participants was high school age. But a least a dozen zombies were marching in step, holding a circle formation, banging on large, chest-carried drums in perfect sync. Clever. A zombie beating its own drum was a perpetual motion machine; it would keep beating until told not to, and the beat was what would keep it doing what it was told. So much for taking out a single drummer.

Kumori's hood was pacing right in the middle of the circle. There were four or five other bodies in there with her, but I couldn't make out any details. Survivors?

I checked on the animal contingent, and saw that the elephants were growing more restless. One of them even lifted a foot, but the mice scurried out of the way before the big guy could put it back down. Silently, I willed the vermin to start climbing the elephants' legs. Then to head into their ears. I really needed that distraction. The crowd was parting, letting Cowl and his entourage through. He was going to see the mice soon, and then my element of surprise would be lost.

There was a loud, reverberating howl, echoing down the streets and all around us. Everyone froze, except Cowl and Kumori, who both turned.

_Now_.

I told the little guys to start biting the big guys. Yeah, it was cruel, and yeah, I felt bad. And if I believed for even a moment that the elephants were actually feeling pain, I would have stopped; but according to a fellow by the name of Kemmler, the dead, even dead animals, have no physical sensation. That's why they can push themselves so hard and so fearlessly; they don't feel pain. But they do still have instinct, and right now, the elephants' instincts told them they were under attack and being swarmed.

The elephants broke. They started smacking into each other, dancing back and forth and side to side, knocking zombies over and swinging their trunks, trying to knock the mice and rats loose. Cowl spun back to the front. I saw him lift a hand towards the elephants, and the three near him did calm down a little. But not a lot. And the other three, all of about thirty feet farther away, didn't calm down at all. They continued to dance and fidget and crush everything near them. Zombies went down, broken and battered.

I stopped keeping the beat; the mice and rats had done what they needed to do, and this way they'd simply go crazy, attacking everyone until the energy I'd infused them with faded away. Considering the circumstances and who their available targets were, I could live with that.

Then, from behind the marching band, the howling started up again, closer. Close enough to see, actually. _Crap_. The Alphas had waited until they were close to start their distraction. I should have known; telling Mouse and the gang to stay away from danger was always futile. But now, they were throwing themselves right into it.

Well, they wouldn't let me get into danger alone; I could hardly let them jump in unsupported. I reached for my blasting rod, then remembered it had exploded last night. I took a second to shake my head at the fact that that had happened mere hours ago, then shrugged. I drew in my will, dropped the veil, and pointed my hand in Cowl's direction. His head snapped over to me.

"_Fuego_!"

I don't know whether it was the Winter Knight's mantle, or the lack of a focus, but the resulting firestorm that ripped itself from me was enormous. A wave of heat and explosive pressure swept out from my perch on the newspaper box, a semicircle of red hot death – or re-death, in this case – 60 feet across. That Toyota I mentioned earlier blew apart, pieces slicing into and impaling and decapitating zombies.

And I barely felt it. The power of Winter is hard for anyone to deny.

But Cowl did.

Zombies had been incinerated in that arc; the road itself and the Toyota were molten slag. Even one of the elephants had buckled and collapsed, crushing a few more walking dead, though the others just seemed to have got more riled up. But when the flame dissipated, I looked down where Cowl had been standing… and he still _was_ standing. But then, I'd dropped a car on him once – also a Toyota, funnily enough – and he'd shrugged that off, too.

"Well," I heard him say over the tumult, "I was wondering when you'd get here." His voice was deep and heavily accented.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart," I said.

He reached out a hand towards me, but I was already jumping off the paper box. While I was still in mid-air, I heard him shout, "_Rigiss_!" The bricks of the wall I'd just been standing in front of cracked and shattered. I landed and took three big steps towards the apartment building's broken door. I had to trust in McCoy's teaching, now.

I turned, throwing up a quick shield, just as Cowl pointed at me again. This time, he said nothing and no wave of force swept at me. Instead, the horde turned to me and started to box me in. I got my eyes focussed on the far end of the street, where Mouse and the Alphas were playing Whack-a-Zombie. I got my hand in my pocket, seized the Black Key, and threw myself through the doorway, tugging the door closed behind me, staff squeezed tight with my elbow.

Everything went quiet. I was standing in the Black Hall, that most marvelous of short-cuts, a smooth, straight cave of obsidian with veins of marble. I glanced from side to side and saw the infinite number of alcoves in the cave, each hiding a door leading to a crossroads. I'd learned a while ago that even the door of an apartment or hotel could be considered a crossroads, since it was almost invariably temporary housing for the people within.

I turned around. Even though the door to the apartment building was damaged and askew in its hinges in the real world, here on the Hall side, it fit the jamb perfectly. No, I don't know how that works, so I'll just say 'magic.' As usual, there was a window in the door, showing me the scene I'd just left behind. To the left, Cowl was just visible through the throng of his faintly glowing second-chancers, his hand held out in my direction.

The crowd of zombies was frozen in mid-lumber towards my door, not moving. It was a relief to see them stopped, but still weird. And the elephant that was stomping on the re-animated mice and people, one leg lifted, trunk swinging. It was like looking at a panel in a comic book, but 3-D.

I shook my head and turned away. Now, I just had to hope I was lucky, and McCoy knew what he was talking about.

I hurried to the next door on my right. I looked through the window and saw the Alphas and Mouse, moving in an almost dance-like manner, jaws open and paws splayed, some jumping, some landing, a couple simply moving. It was oddly beautiful. I took a moment to look beyond them, at the bodies scattered about, at the now-tiny forms of the elephants in the distance, and everything in between. I had the time, after all.

"What are you looking for?" Lash asked.

I glanced over my shoulder at her, where she had projected her image. "Just trying to see what my next move should be. They're holding their own, for the moment."

"No," she said. "They will be boxed in within minutes. Look to the right again." I did, frowning. There was a small group of dead walkers, seemingly moving away from the gang. "Now to the left." I looked that way, and saw the same thing; a small group of dead, not quite a dozen, were moving away from my four-legged friends. I looked into the crowd again; while the majority of them were charging head-on into the fight, the flanks were pointing in a slightly different direction. And those two groups were going to grow.

"You're right. It's a classic pincer maneuver. They'll be surrounded in a couple of minutes." I hoisted my staff. "If only there were some stupid but plucky wizard around who could lend them a hand."

I took a deep breath and threw the door open, jumping in to the street. As always, the wave of sound was the first thing that hit me, but this time, it wasn't as distracting as usual. I saw a few leaping hounds complete their jumps, saw open jaws clamping shut, saw zombies that had been frozen in mid-fall crash to the ground.

I turned to the left, pointed my staff, and snarled, "_Forzare_!" One jaw of the pincer blew back, over a dozen dead bodies lifted off their feet, flying through the air with the greatest of ease. I spun 180 degrees, and repeated myself. So did the dead trapeze.

Something shimmered beside me, and I turned to see Will crouching and breathing hard. I ducked beside him. "Hey, Harry."

"Will. Nice weather we're having."

He shook his head at me. "How much longer you need?"

"If the plan works, about two minutes."

He nodded and leapt back into the fray, changing suits as he went. I turned to follow Mouse as he ripped through two more zombies. "Mouse! Two minutes!"

He paused exactly long enough to glance at me and bark, then he was ripping a glowing femur away from someone who needed it to walk. I smiled, popped off a few more blasts of force to the south side of the street, and got ready to move.

I turned back to the door I'd jumped out of – a temp agency, of all things – and got my hand on the Black Key, then looked over my shoulder for the calm in the middle of the storm. The elephants had finally calmed down, though there were now only 4 of them standing. I saw Cowl, now standing on top of a zombelephant, calmly observing everything. As I watched, that elephant began to march forward, Cowl swaying gently on top of it. Then I saw Kumori and a few others – those maintaining the Transit, I'd have put money on it – huddling against a wall, and pulled open the door.

Silence greeted me. Without pausing, I clicked the door shut and dashed to the next alcove. I looked through the window, and got a shock. There was a semi-circular clearing, about seven or eight people across, a wedge held by the tightly-packed drummers. The mass of zombies were squeezing around them. The drummers themselves were frozen in mid-swing; none of them had drumsticks or mallets; they were pounding on the big drums with their bare hands. As with the rest of the horde, they weren't entirely solid, with large portions of their bodies supplemented or replaced by glowing green constructs of energy.

The thing that shocked me, though, was the one living person – one of the Transiteers – who was looking right at me. It wasn't Kumori, who was focussed on the fight; it wasn't Cowl, whose zombelephant had already marched past this clearing. It was a short woman I'd met just a couple of years ago; her name was Abbi. She was a clairvoyant, able to see a few seconds into the future. She'd looked up at the door I was about to come through, and she was smiling.

It was unnerving, to say the least. Kind of like a slasher-movie poster, where the killer is looking straight at you, or seems to be. Only in this case, it was a kind, pleasant lady. I didn't recognize the others, but I'd have bet that they were all low-level practitioners.

The rest of the Transiteers had their heads down, some with their hands up, trying to block out the scene around them. Their clothes were all dirty and torn, what skin I could see covered in scratches and cuts and bruises. I shook my head, took a breath, and shoved the door open. The booming of fire and the march of feet flooded my ears, along with a cry of, " – ster Dresden!"

All five of the other Transiteers and Kumori looked at me. "Hi, Abbi!"

"Dresden?"

"And hello to you too, Kumori," I said, grabbing her shoulder and kneeling down, pulling her with me. "Or Mathilde, or whatever you want to be called." Her hood flopped back.

"What are you doing?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

She looked around at the little group, who had also all crouched near us. "Don't stop! He'll notice!" she hissed.

They all looked away, scared. They started chanting in what Lash told me was ancient Sumerian. I doubted they had any idea what they were saying.

"Couldn't talk him out of it, huh?"

"I delayed him as long as I could," she said. "You have to leave. Get farther away. He still wants you alive."

"Yeah, I know. Think I might have figured out why, too."

"Then you must get away!"

"I can't leave him to chase down all the civilians!"

"Then lead him away! He'll have to chase you!"

"Sounds like a great game, but time isn't on my side. When the Transit completes - "

"I know."

"So help me. Help me stop him!"

Her eyes moved to her father, still standing on his zombelephant. I couldn't see the Alphas from where I was crouched, but I hoped they were making their withdrawal. I watched Kumori's face. I watched her eyes drop, and by the time she turned her head back to me, I knew what her decision was. "You can't. Or won't."

"He's all I have." Her voice was quiet, hard to hear over the din.

"Okay, then. If that's the way it has to be. All of you, stop chanting."

They did.

"No! No, you can't!" Kumori said. Her face took on a little panic.

"Just did. Through the door!" I said over my shoulder.

They scurried.

"He - "

"I know. But at the moment, I'm all they have."

She looked down again. I turned to go, still in a crouch. I reached the door, Abbi and the others just inside what turned out to be a post office. She looked at me, and said, "No!" reaching out a hand. The others grabbed her and pulled her back.

I froze, which was about the worst thing I could have done. About a second later, one of the drummers stopped pounding, dropped its drum, and grabbed me by the neck, heaving me up, lifting me off my feet. I said "Gurk!" and got one hand on a wrist, then started smacking the dead man in the face with my staff. It was a panic motion; I could barely breathe.

My toes just barely touched the ground, and getting them there eased the panic. I turned my eyes to Kumori, whose hand was held up in a strange three-finger gesture I didn't recognize. Her hood was back up. The rest of the drummers continued to swing. "Don't do this," I wheezed.

"Your death would end father's plans."

"No. He'd go after the other." Replacing the air I'd used to say all that was a slow process. "I have to stop him." Big breath. "Besides. The rest of the Circle wants me dead."

There was a pause.

"That… is reason enough to keep you alive." She twisted her hand and the zombie let me go. I dropped and started breathing again, only seeing stars for a moment. I turned to the survivors, still huddling inside the post office. "Go," I said. "Hide. Get out of sight!"

Abbi nodded before I had finished speaking, and turned away, leading the others into the shadows. One of them tried to object, but Abbi cut him off before he started: "If Mr. Dresden says we go, then we go!" Then she dragged him away.

I turned back to Kumori. Her shoulders were slack, her head hung low. "Thank you," I said.

"Do what you must," she said.

I stood up straight, just in time to see the mass of the horde stop moving down the street; the Alphas were clear. I wouldn't let myself think that they might have been dead. Kumori faded into the crowd, the drummers parting just enough to let her through.

I found the zombelephant Cowl had been riding, but he wasn't on it anymore. My eyebrows creased in the light as I looked for him… Then I realized the light was getting brighter again. The people maintaining the Transit had stopped chanting, so the power holding Chicago in Hell was weakening. I glanced up, saw the slight brightening of the sky as it took on a much-less red and much-more blue tinge.

I barely saw the black spot in time to dodge out of the way. Cowl hit the ground like a dropped bowling ball, shattering the concrete of the sidewalk and throwing out a shockwave that knocked me and all the drummers down, along with 50 or 60 other zombies. I plowed into a few myself, which broke my fall nicely.

I clambered to my feet and looked around. Cowl was straightening up, his hands out to his sides. "Dresden," he said. "There's no need for this."

"You mean you'll give up and leave?"

His hands came together and his hood shook from side to side. "You do not change much, do you?"

I thought of Chauncey and smiled. "Just in all the ways that matter."

He reached up and pulled his hood back. I remembered Klaus as a portly little man, looking a lot like a mall Santa. That had been faked. Cowl, as he was now, was taller, straighter, leaner. Still had a beard, though. He kind of looked like Santa's evil twin. "I had hoped you would work with me," he said.

"Never a chance," I said.

"Yes, I suppose that was a pipe dream." He tilted his head, a look of concentration on his face.

There was a groaning sound. I looked to my right, down the street. There, the surviving zombelephants and fully half of his zombie horde still stood, untouched by the earlier scuffle. They all started moving, shuffling slowly but in sync, heading down the cross-street. Heading for St. Mary's.

"What about now, Dresden? With a thousand living at risk? Will you help me?"

Equal parts rage and terror washed through me. "You can't!"

"Living, dead. It makes little difference to me. But to you… I'm willing to be reasonable."

"Reasonable?" I stabbed a finger at him and found myself walking in his direction. "Reasonable would be you crying off, right now, before I shove one of those elephants up your zombie-loving ass!"

His eyes twitched. That was all. Then pieces of the road itself cracked and exploded around my feet, hands made of asphalt and gravel wrapping themselves around my ankles.

Without thinking, I swept a hand at them, muttered "_Expius_," and watched them crumble to dust. I barely broke stride.

His eyebrows jumped and I stopped walking, about twenty feet away. "You've grown stronger," he whispered.

"It's like I said, Klaus: Just in all the ways that matter."

We both froze. We stared at each other. Nothing moved. Everything went silent except for the wind.

I half-expected a tumbleweed to blow past.

Then it was on.


	18. Chapter 18

With a flick of his wrist, the zombies behind me started to move. I glanced over my shoulder, saw their hands grasping at me. I turned back just in time to see a distortion in the air; a spell coming right at me. I had no time for a shield, so I just threw myself into a roll to the right.

I felt the cold, greasy energy graze me, some of it actually snagging on my duster like paint, tugging at my shoulder. I didn't see what happened to the zombies behind me, but the wet, squelching sounds I heard told me everything I needed to. I came up from the roll with a shield already forming.

Instead of a spell hurling at me, more zombies tried to grab at me. Without dropping the shield, I swept my staff in an arc, shouted "_Forzare_!" and tossed a couple dozen dead bodies around. But there were plenty more. Then lightning – of course it would be lightning, from a guy with a Frankenstein complex – ripped out of the sky.

I'm pretty sure my shield took the brunt of the strike; either that, or being the Winter Knight came with some curious perks, like an elemental resistance bonus. I landed on my back, my ears ringing. My skull bounced off the pavement with a wonderful cracking sound. I shook my head and both sight and sound came back quickly. A quick glance side to side showed me green grabbing hands coming from all directions.

Somehow, I'd managed to keep my staff, so I lifted it above my head, held it perpendicular to the ground, and shouted "_Forzare_!" again. It was like swinging from a rope in gym class, after bouncing off a trampoline. The staff exploded upwards like a rocket, and I barely managed to hold on, wrenched off the ground and flung forward.

I came down on my feet, a good fifteen yards from where I'd been, and almost stumbled. There were a couple of brief flares of pain in my joints. I looked around for Cowl, but he'd vanished. I realized that I needed to get off the street. Every dead body here was just another set of hands for him to use against me. Except for the drummers, who were still pounding away, some now with only one arm, they were hemming me in.

I think the most unnerving part of the whole experience was the silence. There was the rustle of clothing, the beats of the drummers, the slap of footsteps, but no voices. It was just disturbing.

I felt a rumble in the street before I noticed the path that the zombie infantry were clearing. The last remaining zombelephant, the one Cowl had been riding earlier, was charging at me, trunk swinging. "Oh, star and stones." I spun around to run, but there was nowhere to run _to_. I was surrounded by undead soldiers. They weren't grasping for me, but they had formed a solid wall of bodies. I couldn't jump, I couldn't run.

Well, if you can't go around…

I held my arms and legs close together, and concentrated on my shield bracelet, pouring my worry and fear into it. A solid sphere of energy formed around me, and I willed it as solid as I could. The zombelephant charged right into me, and I, in my sphere, went blasting into the horde like a bowling ball. I flipped end over end, knocking bodies aside and getting seriously dizzy.

I kind of exploded out the back of the crowd as my shield fizzled out. I ended up landing hard on my back as I cleared the crowd after a spectacular cartwheel, spilling into the T-intersection. My head managed not to hit the ground that time, which I took as a minor victory. A look down the road showed me only the tail end of the half of Cowl's army – his Second Army, if you will – that was advancing on St. Mary's, easily half a block away and getting farther with each second. Half of the drummers had gone with them. I needed to bring in the big guns.

I pushed myself to my feet as the horde tried to reform around me. And they were quick – _so quick!_ But I had a second or two. I drew in a breath to open a portal to the Nevernever.

My throat stopped working. It was like a hand was choking me from the inside; I couldn't speak, I could barely breathe. It was tight, sharp pain, like swallowing tacks. I dropped my staff and grasped at my neck, for the good it did. I jerked from side to side, and the pressure lessened somewhat; I twisted to the right, and it disappeared on the left, I twisted left, same on my right. I couldn't turn very far; my legs were pinned, too.

_Okay, think calmly_, I told myself. _The paralysing spell weakens from side to side, so it's a line of sight spell. But what's blocking my neck when I turn?_

My duster. I grabbed the lapels of my own jacket and yanked them up, over my head, pulling them together. Instantly, I could breathe again. Spell-re-enforced leather had so many uses. I held it closed like that for a three count, then poked my head back up. I still couldn't move my feet, and I was surrounded again. I couldn't speak. My throat was on fire.

I looked around. Cowl emerged from the horde on my one side, Kumori on the other. Cowl was shaking his head. "You always complicate things. The Darkhallow. Removing the White Court. And now this."

I couldn't get out a snarky comeback, and that annoyed me. I tried swallowing a few times, and gasping. "Transit," I finally wheezed. I tapped my ear and pointed up.

He leaned back a little, and his hood fell back. I once again saw his face, gazing up at the sky. "Ah, yes. You stopped them. Well done. It doesn't matter, of course." He smiled and I nearly choked. "The Lords of Outer Night and the sidhe of Titania's Court continue to maintain the Transit." I felt a wave of frustration, quickly followed by several sets of arms grabbing at me from behind. One of the zombies got my left arm; I wheeled towards her before another one could get my right arm.

I grabbed her and lifted. Damned if it wasn't easier than I expected. With a grunt, which hurt my throat, I threw the zombie at Cowl, who sidestepped. Another zombie tried to grab me by wrapping its arms all the way around me. Fortunately, my duster was prepared for that manoeuver months ago, and the energy it used to grab me was thrown back at it, blowing it off me and back into the crowd.

"Seize him!" Cowl shouted.

I coughed, still trying to get my throat working. I needed a weapon. I reached for my staff and managed to get it in hand just before a glowing green foot could pin it down. I couldn't cast a spell, so I swung the staff overhead as I came to my feet and brought it around in to a half-formed skull. I swung again, crushing another, then jammed it straight into a third face.

I kept clearing my throat, trying to get it working. While I could technically cast magic without words, doing so tended to backfire, painfully. I didn't really have a second to pause and concentrate, anyway.

"Knock down as many as you want, Dresden; there are always more."

I could still see Cowl, though Kumori had disappeared again. I kept twisting, still unable to move my feet – the asphalt had grabbed it again – staff swinging and jabbing. Murphy had taken me under her wing years ago, teaching me some basic moves with a quarterstaff, since that was usually my preferred melee weapon. She'd shown me how to use my height to its greatest advantage, my greater reach to keep out of an opponent's.

But those lessons had been against one or two opponents. And when I hit them, then tended to stay down. And when I was mobile. This group – this _huge_ group – despite my reach, my apparently-enhanced strength, and my really heavy wooden weapon, would not stop coming. There were simply too many; they felt no pain, and only a killing blow would take them out.

Within about ten seconds, I was tightly surrounded again, and I felt my staff being pulled away. I tried to cry out in frustration, but only a hollow growl came out. I managed one more jab, then my staff was yanked out of my hands. I tried throwing elbows and fists, but in another few seconds, I was held tightly.

When they didn't start biting deeply into my brain like my instincts warned me they would, I took a few breaths, letting a wave of panic wash over me. As soon as it cleared, I remembered something, something so simple I'd have hit my forehead if I could have moved my arms: my target didn't have to _hear_ my spell, even _I _didn't have to hear it; I only had to _say_ it. I opened my right hand and whispered, "_Fuego_."

Fire exploded from me like a flamethrower, a gout of flame pouring out of my hand, catching the clothing and skin of the zombies on my right side. Half a dozen of them suddenly reeled back, unable to stand or function. Others moved forward to take their place, but for a second, my hand was free. I moved my arm, fire still flooding out of it, in a slow arc, melting down another dozen standing right in front of me.

My vision started to blur, but rather than turn the tap off, I drew on Hellfire. The heat doubled, and the size of the flame rushing out of me increased. The zombies to my left were all but incinerated. Finally, I stopped the spell; the fire remained, eating away at the corpses, the stink of brimstone and burning flesh mixing into something entirely unpleasant. My arms were free; a set of arms grabbed me from behind, but a twist-and-shove move Murphy had shown me cleared it off.

The horde was wasting no time moving in again; Cowl hadn't been boasting when he said there were always more. Fortunately, I had more tricks. I pointed down and mouthed '_Expius'_, and felt my feet release. I turned in a quick circle, looking for the zombelephant. I found it, just as it was starting to steadily tromp towards me. I pointed at the street beneath it and whispered, "_Geodas_!"

Earth magic isn't my personal forte. But I've learned a few useful spells in the last couple of years, and the power boost from the mantle made those spells I wasn't always comfortable with work better.

The street cracked, buckled, and just sort of collapsed. Propelled by the great mass of the elephant, the section of road and the undead foot soldiers around it were crushed down into the sewers, falling a good fifteen feet, creating a huge racket, and ceasing to be a threat.

Normally, the strain of a spell like that, after all the other magic I'd just tossed around, would have exhausted me. Instead, I felt only slightly winded. Score another one for the Winter Knight's mantle. I turned to get the hole in the ground behind me so I wouldn't have to grow eyes in the back of my head, and took a breath. I started to lift my hands to sink them into the ether, and opened my mouth to open a Way into the Nevernever.

Once again, my freaking throat failed me. I tried to lift my arms, but they wouldn't lift any higher than my stomach, bouncing off an invisible barrier. "I don't think so, Dresden. Not again." Cowl again emerged from the crowd, which had stopped advancing about ten feet away, both arms raised and pointed at me. He'd been just out of reach the whole time, letting his minions get re-slaughtered and probably hoping to let me wear myself out. The evil genius.

Okay. I could breathe. That was good. But I couldn't speak, not even whisper. My vocal chords were just… paralysed. Crap. So much for the 'throw trolls at him and run' part of the plan. Cowl twisted his hands a little, and I felt pressure on my spine, pushing it into an arch. I gasped in pain; phantom hands grabbed my wrists and yanked them down, holding them to my sides, adding to the discomfort. It felt like the world's worst yoga pose. On top of that, the pavement once again cracked, surged, and grabbed onto my ankles.

Only then did he lower his hands. Kumori – or Mathilde, or whatever – emerged from the horde, too. Both of them had their hoods down. I locked eyes, just for a second, with Kumori. She glanced at her father and generally looked really uncomfortable.

Cowl was shaking his head. "Always complicating things." He sounded angry.

I looked at Kumori again. She took a breath. "Why, father? Why not kill him, then raise him? He would be so much easier to deal with."

He turned to her and gave her a patronizing look. "Because, Mathilde, the power he wields would be severed at death. It would not rise with him again."

I tried to growl, or even grunt, but nothing came out. I was as silent as the zombies.

So I just breathed at him.

Angrily.

"Surely he is no longer a threat," Kumori said.

"One such as he is always a threat, daughter." Despite that, he took a few steps closer to me.

I mouthed a few choice words at him, most of them four letters long.

He sighed. "I'm afraid lip reading is not a skill I have developed. Very well." He gestured, and I felt something shift within my chest.

I cleared my throat, coughed, and spat. Not the best idea when trussed up like I was. I wiped my lips on my collar with a twist of my neck. My voice was little more than a rasp. "I don't suppose it'll make much difference if I say I won't help you? Again?"

"Dresden, allow me to be blunt. If you do not help me, I will kill you. Then I will force DuMorne's other apprentice to help me."

I laughed at him. "She won't help you, either."

"She will if I tell her I have you, and will kill you if she does not." I stopped laughing. "I could kill you, animate your corpse, make you act as though in great pain. She would resist, of course, DuMorne only liked the strong. But she cares for you too much. She would give in, eventually."

"Or, she'd see right through you and blast that beard right off your face."

He sighed again. "Harry," he said, stepping closer still, "Would it make a difference if I told you that I don't want you to act against any human being?"

"You mean directly, right? You want me to control Outsiders for you, raise a little army. What you do with them after I'm done is no concern of mine? Like Hell."

He shook his head. "No, no. Raise an army? I can do that myself. I already did." He shrugged and waved an arm at his army of the dead. "No, that's what the rest of the Circle wants. Especially the vampires, for some reason. The Red Court heavily favours using the Outsiders, though they cannot control them very well. They cannot even deal with the one already here."

"So you want to use them against the Circle? Well, I'll admit I like that idea more, but I don't even know how to use whatever power it is you think I've got."

"Oh, you would, when you needed to. But no, I don't wish to use them against the Circle, either. I don't wish to use them, period."

I looked at him, completely confused. I glanced at Kumori, but she looked confused, too. "Well then… what the hell?"

"Dresden, this plan of mine… well, it was years in the making. But when you disrupted the Darkhallow last time, you did me a favour, really. I had forgotten about the Outsiders. Had I succeeded, they would have stopped me when I tried to enact the next stage of my plan."

"Remaking the universe?" I asked.

He arced an eyebrow and shot a look at his daughter, who looked away.

"Yes. The Outsiders could have stopped that. Dresden, I simply need you to hold them back for me. For everyone."

"For everyone?"

"Yes. I can remake the world. All of existence. I can end pain and suffering. I can end _death itself_. And I can preserve you, and all those you care about, forever."

"We've had this debate before. Mortality is what defines human beings. The marks we leave behind; they lose all meaning and significance if we never die. What motivation is there to finish something if there's no deadline?"

"Imagine what could be learned in an infinite life."

"Ask the vampires and fae what they've learned." I shook my head. "We'd all be struldbrugs."

His brow furrowed for a second. "Ah, Swift. Yes. Well, I could also eliminate aging. Imagine if he had lived longer, or Einstein, Newton, Galileo, Archimedes, what observations they'd have made, what wisdom they'd have imparted."

"Sure, wisdom. What about Hitler, and his wisdom? What about Idi Amin? What about the great advances made by the Inquisition? What if bacteria and viruses didn't die, huh? Would a perpetual Ebola or Black Plague fit nicely into your world?"

"I could eliminate all disease! No suffering! No pain!" Ah, he was getting angry. Good. I started trying to work my hands free.

"No suffering? Then what's the point? If it's all wine and roses, what do we have to look forward to? Stagnation, genius. If everything's perfect, why try? Why struggle?"

He stepped back, and steadied himself with an effort. "We," he said, pulling up his hood, "will have to agree to disagree. Until I can remake you."

"Right. And where are you going to get the power for that?"

He turned to watch the departing Second Army, now at least three blocks away and creeping closer to the refugees every second.

It clicked. "Hell's bells," I whispered. "You're not sending an army to kill everyone. You want them hemmed in!"

"While in Transit, Chicago is in the same state of flux as when we tried to perform the Darkhallow. I will be able to work it again. With the living to jump start it, and with all the souls contained in Hell… well, only the local Outsider will be able to stand against me."

"If you thought I was against you before, there's no way I'm going to – wait, local? What are you talking about?"

He turned a little more, facing vaguely southeast. "The truth is, Dresden, that even with the power I am about to take on, reworking the universe itself will take time. Time during which I will be vulnerable. Of course, until the Gates are opened, only the Outsiders already here are a threat. He Who Walks Behind, I can handle, through Titania. But that cursed island…"

I felt my eyes expand, and couldn't stop them. "Demonreach… Demonreach is an Outsider?"

He turned back to me. "You named it? How quaint."

"It… it gave me its name."

His hood ticked to the side; he was thinking. "It gave you… Ah. You performed sanctum invocation." It wasn't a question. He laughed. "Yes, DuMorne did like them strong. Though I thought he preferred them smart, too." He sighed again, and dropped a logic bomb on me. "He always stood against us."

I felt my head tick to the side in a weird mirror of Cowl. I didn't understand. "What?"

"You didn't realize?" His head shifted within the hood again. "No. No, you didn't." He laughed again. "DuMorne was recruiting his army; that much you knew. He started with you and the girl."

"Elaine. He enthralled her, and tried to do the same to me!"

"That makes sense. He would have wanted no mistakes. His methods were always… harsh. He would have used you two against us. Turned the Outsiders against the Circle. Brilliant, really."

My mind raced, then stalled, and completely shut down. I couldn't think. Justin – the man who had ripped away Elaine's own mind, nearly done the same to me, nearly killed me – had been working against the bad guys. It didn't make any sense. "You're lying." My voice was very low.

"No, no I wish I was. DuMorne would have made quite the addition to our forces. He wasn't privy to all our plans, of course, but he knew enough. In a way, you did us a great favour by removing him. If you hadn't… well, who knows where we'd be today? We might have been wiped out by DuMorne and his ur-demons."

I had a hard time breathing. Justin had never been a great guy. 'Harsh' was an accurate description. But he'd been working against the bad guys.

And I'd killed him.

_Harry? Are you all right?_ Lash asked.

_No._

_Harry, fighting Justin was the only thing you could have done._

_I know that, on one level. But, once he learned of the Circle's plans, Justin could never have gone to the Council, even though he'd been a Warden. They would have never allowed him to recruit Elaine and me, let alone use us like he'd planned. They would have launched an assault against the Circle… and very likely, they'd have lost. In an all-out war, a century ago, or even thirty years back, there would simply not have been enough wizards, let alone Wardens._

_Don't get me wrong – I fought Justin because he'd threatened me, and the only real friend I had at the time. But… if he'd managed to wipe out the Circle early, using the Outsiders, all of the destruction the Circle had caused – hell, all the destruction I've caused – would never have happened._

_No!_ The sheer force of Lash's voice was like a splash of cold water to my brain.

_What?_

_You have no way of knowing if DuMorne would have freed you after the Circle was defeated, or even if his plan would have succeeded. You do not know if he would have succumbed to temptation and continued to use the pair of you until you were both broken and dead. Enthralling you would have damaged him, as well – even if he started out with the intention simply saving the world, do you think he would have resisted the power controlling you and Elaine would have given him?_

I had no answer.

_He would have used you until the three of you were even worse than the Circle. You did the right thing, Harry_. She paused. _Just like you always do. Just like all the best people do._

I stared, wide-eyed and feeling stupid; she was right. Fighting Justin had been the right thing to do, based on what I knew. Killing him… well, I'd always felt regret, mixed with the anger and the betrayal. Justin had been a father to me, if a cold one.

I was confused, conflicted, sorrowful, and angry at Justin all over again. He could have just _told us_… To be perfectly honest, I felt a little like crying.

But Molly had been right, too: I couldn't blame myself for what others had done, or failed to do.

Cowl saw my expression, and completely misinterpreted it. "Yes, Dresden. _You_ allowed this to happen. But you can set it right." He took a few steps closer. "Help me, to fix it all. Help me, and I will spare what lives I can, you have my word."

I shook my head, slowly. "I can't," I whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because the world isn't beyond saving as it is."

He grunted in frustration. "How can you still believe that?"

I smiled at him. "Because, I have faith."

Man, I love handing the universe a straight line.

"Pretender to eternal life!" All three of us turned to look at the source of the ringing new voice. Cowl lifted his hand and the horde parted. I had a clear line of vision to short blonde woman standing half a block away, clothes tattered, hair messy, ancient Sword in hand.

My voice came back, full strength. "Murphy!"

"Cry off your cause, or answer to a higher power!"

Cowl stepped towards her. "Not this time!" he snarled. He lifted his hands, and the zombies started turning and rushing towards Murph. They blocked her from my sight in less than a second; the last I saw, she was bringing _Fidelacchius_ down and choosing a target.

I instantly started struggling again, but my invisible bonds held tight. "Stay away from her, you nercophiliac son of a bitch!"

I glanced at Kumori. She was frozen, looking back and forth between Cowl and the horde. Her jaw was working, but she wasn't saying anything. Aside from the drummers and the shuffling of feet, the only thing I could hear was Murphy shouting and grunting. She looked at me, then quickly away. Then she looked again.

I mouthed the words, "Help. Me."

She looked away again, back to her father. Her only family. I saw her close her eyes and take a breath, and knew she'd made her decision. She lifted her hand, and said, "I'm sorry, father."

My arms came free.

Cowl sensed the change, and whirled around. "What?"

"_Aparturum!_" I shouted in his face, and slashed a hand through the air. He lifted his hands to close the portal – but before he could, a troll, big, green and smelly, emerged from it, up to its waist, roaring a challenge.

It took one look at Cowl, and swung a fist at him. The necromancer flew backwards into the horde, bowling over a dozen zombies and flipping end over end. He was not, however, reduced to a sticky paste, so I have to assume he got a shield up.

I moved my hands, and realized I was completely free. I reached out and pulled the portal open further, letting the troll all the way through. It stood eight feet tall, wore only a loincloth and tattered leather vest, and held a giant cudgel. Its feet made great thud sounds on the ground, too.

After a moment, the zombies turned their attention to the troll and started towards it. Of course, by that time, another troll had joined the first, and started roaring, too. "Crush them all!" I ordered. They both had huge clubs in hand, and started swinging indiscriminately.

I turned to look for Kumori, but she was gone. I heard Murphy shouting wordlessly. My staff was gone. I pushed the portal open as far as I could for the continuing stream of Incredible Hulk wannabes and started running for my best friend.

"Murph, I'm coming! _Forzare!_" Twenty or so zombies were flattened by my unfocussed spell, as still more trolls emerged from the shrinking portal. There were half a dozen now, each taking reckless joy in crushing everything they could.

I bounded over a pile of slightly glowing bodies, shoved into a few more standing ones with my shield, and set still more on fire. All that magic was fed with joy and relief. Murphy was alive. She was… well, not safe, exactly, but she was up and fighting, and that was as close as she ever got. "Murphy! Where are you?"

"Here!"

I altered my course slightly and headed for a wall of zombies, stepping up the pace. I swung my arm in a wide arc, hollered, "_Arctis!_" and watched half a dozen zombies freeze solid. I charged into them, knocking a few over and shattering them. I slipped on some of the damn ice I had just created and fell over in the process, landing on frozen chunks of zombie and sprawling in a pile in front of a couple dozen more. They looked down at me with vacant expressions and grasping hands, and no voices. They were about to come down on me like the Hammer of God.

Then she was there.

I once looked upon Karrin Murphy with my Sight, and beheld her truest essence; a bright guardian angel, a force of positive energy and a warrior to the core. The Murphy before me now was like that: Every inch the perfect warrior, her Sword was just a tool, her body was the weapon, every twist and gesture graceful, beautiful, exactly what it was supposed to be.

She made more noise than any of them, but that was because she actually had to use her lungs. Murph sliced, diced and julienned every zombie in my line of vision while I rolled over and shoved myself up. We had a second's reprieve. "So," I said, putting my back to hers, "what took you so long?"

"Oh, you know," she said. "Traffic."

And we were fighting for our lives again, only it didn't feel that way. It felt… well, not _great_, but _right_. I threw up my shield and bounced three zombies off it, then unleashed a little fire on two more. Behind me, I heard a sword singing and Murphy grunting, along with occasional squelching sounds. Off to the side, the trolls were doing their thing, crushing whatever came at them.

I danced to the right and threw an ice spell underhand, freezing the road under half a dozen opponents and sending them tumbling.

"Behind you," Murphy said without any real urgency. I threw myself into a forward roll. When I came up, she was chopping in half a zombie who was standing where I had been a second ago. I lifted a shield to bounce two more of them away before they could grab onto her back.

"Where did you come from?" I asked. "_Fuego!_"

"Ended up in the Southwest of town. Ran into some friends. _Hey-ya, stay down, you!_ Just followed my nose up here."

"So what's the plan?" I asked. "_Forzare!_"

"We just need to last another few seconds – _would you just die already?_"

"They're already dead, Murph. _Pyrofuego!_"

"You know what I mean, Dresden." I could hear her rolling her eyes as she said it. "Getting a little heavy over here."

"Duck." She did. I stretched my hand over the space she occupied and shouted "_Arctis!_" A dozen of the zombies froze in mid-stride. She jumped back up instantly, shattering limbs and heads and creating a little breathing space.

We were holding, glowing bodies bouncing off my shield every few seconds or falling beneath the Sword of the Cross. But my shield wouldn't last forever. And Murphy's arms would get tired eventually. And there were still over a hundred zombies. I glanced to the side just in time to watch one of the trolls I'll called up get overwhelmed and pulled down by about twenty zombies working together.

Before I had a chance to curse, something red and flying caught my eye. "What the hell - ?"

"Get down!" Murph spun, grabbed my collar, and heaved me to the ground while my brain slowly registered that I'd just seen a flare.

Halfway to the pavement, my eyes locked on Murphy's. Just for a fraction of a second. But on this particular day, at that particular moment, that was all it took to start a Soulgaze.

We hit the ground a second later, both of us disoriented, confused and wide-eyed. Before I could even take a breath, the air was split with the roar of gunfire. A _lot_ of gunfire. I mean, _The Matrix_ had fewer gunshots. And a quieter soundtrack.

Every single zombie around us was ripped to shreds by flying bullets. I pulled my duster open and Karrin rolled into it, instinct overriding any shock she'd felt from the 'gaze. I pulled my head down under the collar.

Body parts landed on me. Entire bodies landed on me. I tried not to think about it.

There was a silence after a moment. I opened my duster a little and we both peered out at the street. There was little movement. My ears rang from the gunfire. Karrin pushed herself up onto her elbows and I followed suit. As I came up, I saw a person running towards us and threw up a shield.

Karrin's hand touched my outstretched wrist. "It's okay, Harry." I glanced at her, then dropped my shield. Karrin gathered up the Sword and we clambered to our feet. I looked around at the mounds of dead bodies, most of them already disintegrating back into rotten remains.

The person running up to us was joined by others. Most of them were wearing suits… or uniforms. The guy in front was Rawlins. They were cops. And there was FBI agent Tilly. And agent Rick, Karrin's first husband. Everyone was armed, and everyone was in rough shape.

"Murph," Rawlins' voice rumbled, "You good?"

"I'm good."

He turned to me. "Good to see you, Dresden. Nice to know she charged in like a madwoman for a good reason."

"She was buying time for you guys to get into position?"

He nodded. "She didn't think you'd last."

"Yeah, well…" I rubbed the back of my neck. "I had him right where I…" I looked at Karrin, who was looking at me with a raised eyebrow. "Thanks."

"We got a live one!"

We all turned to the voice; it was Rudolph. A former member of Special Investigations, Rudolph had joined IA and made Karrin's life difficult until her early 'retirement.' I could charitably think of him as a douche. But he was part of this joint task force, so I decided not to insult him to his face. Who says I don't have people skills?

The group of us moved to Rudolph as quickly as we could, considering the bodies we had to climb over and the wet and sticky bits we had to avoid sliding in. Rudolph was standing in the doorway to the post office that Abbi and the others had hidden in, and I found myself scared. _Please don't let them be dead, please don't let them be dead. _The front window was missing several large chunks, with a few other pieces of glass hanging precariously.

I got there first, on account of my long legs, and stuck my head in the door, bumping Rudolph out of the way. Abbi and the others were fine, except for a little shell-shock. There were several messy, decomposing corpses littering the floor.

Kumori was breathing raggedly, Abbi and a one of the other Transiteers trying to stop bleeding from many places. Kumori's robe had been torn open in several places; some with long, slashing marks from zombies, some with tiny, bullet hole precision.

"She was protecting us," Abbi said.

"What happened?" I asked, then realized my question had already been answered.

I took a breath and stepped inside. Kumori looked up at me. She tried to speak, but her voice was very quiet. I crouched down. "Dresden. Tell him… tell him, I'm…"

I nodded. "I will. And, thank you."

Her breathing accelerated for a few seconds, then Abbi withdrew her hand and made a sad, squeaky sound. Then Kumori – Mathilde - stopped breathing. I reached up and closed her eyes. I shook my head, unsure what to do or say. "Rest in peace," I finally said.

"No!" The scream erupted from behind me, and I spun just in time to see Rudolph go flying through the doorway and over me. Cowl was standing in the door, hood down and teeth bared. I willed up a shield, and stood between him and the others.

"Harry!" I flicked my eyes to the shattered window, where I could see Karrin finally arriving. Cowl turned and made a slashing motion with his hand. The street itself shrugged, throwing up a wave of asphalt and concrete, throwing Rawlins, Rick, Tilly and half a dozen other law enforcement types to the ground.

Throwing Karrin Murphy to the ground.

I have no memory of dropping my shield and charging at the crazed necromancer, but I must have, because a second later, I was grappling with him, one arm under his right, the other over his left. Momentum carried us a few steps into the street. I had no staff, no blasting rod. I hadn't thought to even look for my gun. I'd just seen Karrin fall, and I hadn't really thought at all.

Cowl – no, Klaus – threw an elbow at my face, and connected squarely with my cheek bone. My head snapped back, more from surprise than pain. But then he did it again. And again. My grip broke, and he turned to me. His eyes were glassy, and he was foaming a bit at the lips, spittle flying as he took another swing at me. I realized then that he was cracked. His daughter's death, despite his own life-long pursuits, had driven him over the edge.

He threw a haymaker at me, growling nonsense. I dodged it and hit him in the jaw with a quick jab. He hardly seemed to feel it. Then he threw another punch, which I leaned back from. He followed it with a gut shot that I didn't manage to dodge. I managed to get my own arms up before his next few blows landed. There was a slight pause after the third swing, and I took a chance on a left straight. I connected with his nose and he staggered back.

I wasn't sure when the two wizards present had decided to settle their match with fisticuffs, but I wasn't objecting; Klaus was about an order of magnitude above me in terms of magical oomph. However, even as I threw another punch at him, I was forming a theory.

Here's something most people don't know about magic, but is really common sense: in order to work it, you have to believe in it. I know that sounds silly and circular, but it's the truth. If you don't believe that what you're doing is right, it'll fizzle. If you don't have the confidence in yourself to make it work, it won't. Magic is as much mental as it is physical.

And I think that's why Klaus didn't try to flash fly me or blow me up – he couldn't concentrate long enough, or see far enough past his anger and madness to do it, though he had managed to work magic just a minute ago against others. That meant his anger was probably directed at me. And that meant he probably blamed me for his daughter's death.

Seriously, of all the things that could drive a freaking necromancer over the edge.

I put a right hook into his jaw, but he rolled with it, spun completely around, and put a right backhand into my shoulder.

I didn't feel most of it thanks to my duster, but I still staggered. He was hitting a lot harder than I was.

His next right came in wide, and I blocked it with both arms, stepping into him. He tried to compensate, get a left jab at my head, but I put an shoulder in his face to stop that. As he staggered back, I asked, "You like it? Hurts, doesn't it?"

He finally seemed to get a hold of himself, pausing and looking around. The cops were back on their feet, but hanging back. _Fidelacchius_ was back in its sheath, and its bearer was watching Klaus from twenty feet away, Glock in hand. "Get down on the ground!" she called.

His eyes took in the cops and agents then finally settled back on me. "You have a way, Dresden. A way of… putting things into perspective."

With him able to concentrate again, I mentally readied my shield bracelet. "Kind of hard to really deal with death? I mean, not _make_ deals with it, but to feel it? Yeah, that's called being human. You get used to it after a while."

His eyes moved to rest on the doorway into the post office, just a few feet away from him. "She was all I had left," he said. His voice was very quiet. His eyes came back to me.

Oh, crap. A slightly mad, angry wizard is bad to fight. A fully-aware, angry wizard? Best avoided. I brought up my shield as he lifted his arms. A solid ball of light exploded from his hands. I felt the impact right up my arm, and fell back a few steps, eyes closed.

My shield bracelet started to get hot, something it only did when trying to bleed off enormous amounts of energy it absorbed. After a few seconds, the light dimmed, and I opened my eyes, moving my wrist to keep the bracelet off my skin. I could see only dancing balls of misshapen colour as my eyes adjusted to the brightness. I brought my shield back up, unable to see. I turned to get the wall of the post office behind me.

Klaus pounced. He attacked from the side, bringing something heavy down on my left arm. I think it was a parking meter. I grunted; my arm didn't quite go numb, but my shield winked out of existence.

Then there were hands wrapping around my throat. Not ghostly-force hands, like before; his real hands. And he had quite a grip. I found myself clutching at those fingers as they squeezed down on me. I couldn't cry out, I couldn't draw a breath. As my eyes finally cleared, I saw Cowl had re-asserted control of a few of the more complete bodies. They formed a – well, not _living_, but moving – wall between me and the cavalry. He was tapping his foot to keep the beat for them.

I couldn't see any of the trolls I'll summoned; they must have been cut down by the cops. Probably in revenge for the officers who had been hurt by a few trolls last month.

_Hellfire, Harry!_

I mentally called up some hellfire, feeding through my hands, trying to hurt Cowl, trying to kill him, just trying to _breathe_ again.

"That," he said quietly, "tingles." I tried to look down to see if I'd done anything, but I couldn't; his grip was iron tight. "Of course, he might have had a way to prepare; I'd rather foolishly shown off Hellfire to Kumori a day or two ago.

Desperate, I dug into my pockets, hoping for anything that might help. My hands were clumsy. I pulled out my revolver and dropped it before I could get a proper grip. I couldn't get a swing in at Cowl as long as he was behind me, so I threw myself back, trying to squish him between the wall and my body. He didn't seem to notice.

My lungs burned, the strength in my limbs started to ebb. I felt my knees giving out. My eyes were starting to bulge, and my vision faded. Winter Knight or not, I was still mortal – and mortals needed to breathe. There were sounds nearby, probably Karrin and the cops fighting their way through the new horde.

"This is why you do not take all that a man has, Dresden," he whispered into my ear. If only his voice wasn't the last thing I would hear, I might die happy. I wouldn't be able to toss out a death curse without air, unfortunately.

I slid to my knees. My eyes closed.

There was an explosion of sound very close by, and air came rushing in to my lungs. I collapsed and rolled over. I couldn't stand, I could barely lift my arms, but sight flooded in with an amazing Technicolour bleed of stars and fireworks. I blinked a lot, then there was a cooling sensation in my throat, and my vision cleared.

_Thanks, Lash._

_Of course, Harry._

I lifted my head; the window in the post office's front wall had completely shattered. Cowl was stepping past me. I turned my head. He snatched my gun out of Abbi's hands and dropped it on the ground. She looked terrified.

For some disoriented reason, I put my hand in my pocket, trying to grab my gun, even though I could see it lying five feet away. My hand came out clutching the Black Key. I reached for the old revolver.

I heard the sounds of gunshots and knew the cops were making short work of the re-reanimated zombies, but also knew Cowl had stopped tapping his foot; they would be fighting mad now, with no control or coordination.

Cowl backhanded Abbi in the face. She cried out before the blow landed, and she crumpled to the sidewalk. I felt my teeth grind together and pushed myself up. Cowl turned. There were burns on his arms and part of his beard was singed away. His eyes were glassy again, unfocussed. His whole face was contorted with a Joker-grin.

I had my shield bracelet ready, and the gun pointed at his head. I couldn't remember if there were any bullets left, but he didn't know that. I stared at him as I asked, "Abbi, are you okay?"

She took a moment to answer. "I'm… I'm okay."

"You need to back away. Get back inside the post office and close the door." She was already moving, crawling. My eyes never left Cowl. He glanced off to the side, where the cops were finishing up. "It's over," I told him.

He just looked at me. "I know," he said. "Though, what really, am I still doing here?" He grew very quiet. "I was supposed to live forever. We were _all_ supposed to live… forever…"

Once again, his eyes locked on my face. I didn't want a soulgaze – especially since I still hadn't had a chance to talk with Karrin about hers – so I turned my head away, just a little. He lunged, and he was fast. Superhumanly fast. He'd obviously been holding something back, because now he was a blur, and I didn't have a chance to get a shield up. One of his fists hit the side of my head, and I dropped the gun again. But I managed to get an arm up to block his next shot, then landed one of my own, right across his jaw.

"You took eternal life from me!" he shouted with his next punch. I took it in the arm, then landed another punch to his face. He staggered back. "You took eternal life from everyone! You took _my daughter_ from me! My _wife_!"

He wasn't using magic again. I'll let you decide what that means about his true feelings on what he was saying. I gripped the Black Key tightly, inspiration jumping up and down on my brain. "You want eternal life?" I asked. "Take it!"

I threw myself against him, putting my hand over his, looping one of the strings from the pouch holding the Black Key's ashes over his wrist. I shoved him back, off-balance, and twisted to put him against the door. He pushed back, but an elbow to his face made him cry out and stagger. With the image of the Black Hall in mind, I pushed harder.

The door opened (against its hinges) into a solid black abyss. I pushed him into it… and pulled on the Black key's pouch as I did.

The pouch tore open as he vanished into the Hall, the ashes spilling everywhere.

The cops came running up to me just as the door finished swinging closed.

"Harry?" I turned to Karrin and gave her a small smile while I took a few deep breaths. She turned to the door. "Is he - ?"

"Gone," I said, and pulled the door open. Inside, the former Transiteers were sprawled near Mathilde's body.

"Where?"

"Somewhere that he already would have come back from, if he could." I held up the pouch. "But he lost the key. He'll live, forever, inside a single moment, unable to die. And that moment is already passed." I looked up at the post office again. "There's a dead letter joke in here somewhere, but I can't be bothered to find it."

Yeah, it had been harsh. Possibly the worse thing I'd ever done to another human being. But allowing him to remake the universe – to be, in essence, a mad god – was simply not an option. He would have taken everyone's lives, then given them back, minus free will.

Abbi's head turned to the shadows in the back of the post office. "Help," a weak voice called from there. Rudolph.

I sighed and Karrin shook her head, before we both headed in to drag him out, Rawlins and Tilly following.

"We need to get going," I said.

"To St. Mary's?" she asked.

"No." I helped Abbi to her feet. "Thank - "

"You're welcome."

"- you." She was smiling, despite a nasty red mark on her cheek. I smiled, put a hand on her shoulder, then kept moving towards Rudolph. Karrin was already there. He was cradling his left arm. "We organized an exodus when the dead rose. Need to let everyone know they're safe."

"Oh?" she got under Rudolph's shoulder, and I got a hand around his back.

"Yeah. Everyone's headed for Cellular Field."

"What?" She almost dropped Rudolph, who gasped in pain and failed to form words as he leaned against me. "Harry," – Abbi gasped – "that's where the Red Court has been holed up!"

"What?" It was my turn to almost drop Rudolph, who groaned this time.

"That's the part of town I've been in for the past day. We chased a small group up here, wiped them out and were going to head down to the church when we found you."

"Stars and stones. I just sent 1200 people marching straight into vampire territory?"

"Oh, God."

"Tell me you have cars!"

Rawlins spoke up. "Damn right. One street over."

"Ah, hell." I picked Rudolph up – causing another groan – and started running.

I tossed Rudolph in the back of a car that Stallings was driving, then followed Karrin to a Detroit-built pick-up, comically over-sized for her, just about right for my height.

We drove. Fast. The lack of street lights and traffic helped, though the occasional missing chunk of road slowed us down a little. Karrin is one of the best drivers I've ever seen outside of the movies, and it wasn't long before we left the rest of the cop column in our dust.

"So," she said. "Good to see you again."

"You, too." Man, it was awkward. "Listen, Karrin, I'm sorry - "

"It was an accident, Harry. I'm not angry. I'm not scared." All the same, she took a corner a little more sharply than necessary.

"And you didn't pass out, which has been known to happen."

"True. What is that?"

I looked where she pointed. "It was an elephant," I said. "Now it's a corpse. Cowl raised a few. With him gone, though, everything he raised will wind down and fall apart soon."

"Oh. Good."

We were quiet again, and she took another corner. I started to feel awkward. "What did you see?" she asked suddenly. She didn't look at me. "I mean, inside?"

Ah. So she did want to know. She wanted to know what was at the core of her being. She needed to know she was good people.

So I told her the truth. "I saw you, walking. Marching, really. Forward, never looking back. And you were carrying a pack, a huge one. Had to be about the same size as you. You struggled a bit under it, but you never fell. Thing is, the backpack didn't carry anything physical. It carried voices. The voices of everyone you've ever known. Some were calling you weak, some were laughing. Some were cruel, some were kind and encouraging. But you were drawing strength from each and every one." One side of her mouth ticked up. "There was one voice, it was very quiet, barely a whisper. But I could hear it over all the others. It was telling you to ignore every other voice, and listen only to your own heart, your own head." She took an unsteady breath. "I think it was your father."

She nodded. "The last thing he ever… it was the last bit of advice he gave me before he… died." Her voice hitched a bit. We took another corner. "Do you want to know?"

I took a second before answering. The responses I'd had to my soulgazes over the years were varied; Susan, my ex-girlfriend, had passed out, John Marcone had smiled knowingly, and Deirdre, one of Lash's old compatriots, had become terribly confused. Considering some of the things I'd done, I'd never really been sure I wanted to know, and had waffled a bit over the years. Knowing what was at the heart of your being tended to be a Big Deal, in my experience. It wasn't the sort of lesson that would be easily forgotten, and once I knew, it would probably influence my character and my thinking for the rest of my life.

On the other hand, this was Murphy.

Fuck it. "Yes," I said.

She swallowed. "You were standing in a room. But it was an enormous room, it went on forever. I couldn't see the walls. It was split right down the middle, one side completely, perfectly dark, the other side blindingly light. And you were straddling the two sides, one foot on each. And you were holding your hands up, moving your fingers, almost like you were feeling the air, feeling the light and the darkness. Almost like… you were testing them, to see which you liked better."

Oh, boy. I'd spent a large chunk of my life uncertain if I could hold back the darkness in my own soul. Now, it appeared my soul agreed with me. I looked out the window as the street zipped by.

"Then I heard voices, too," she continued. "Loud, powerful voices. They were coming from the dark half. And you looked up at them." I swallowed again. "And you started to lean towards them."

I closed my eyes. There it was. I was leaning towards darkness, despite all the effort and worry over the years…

"But, then there were other voices, coming from the light half." I turned back to Murphy, confused. "They weren't as powerful, individually, they weren't as loud. But there were so _many_ of them, Harry. I saw your parents, Molly, Butters, I even saw myself; it was every person you'd ever helped, ever loved, who had ever loved you… Harry, it was every positive influence in your life, and every bit of good will you'd ever cultivated." I reached up absently and wiped a tear away from the edge of my eye.

"They pulled you back."

I sighed, in relief.

"And I thought you'd step into the light."

"Wait, what?"

She shrugged, apologetically. "You didn't. You just looked at everyone, smiled at them, took them in… And then, you just kind of nodded to yourself, like you'd made a decision."

My mouth went dry. "What happened next, Karrin?" I asked, though I feared that I already knew.

She licked her lips. "You turned around, to face the darkness again. Then you started laughing like a maniac, and ran into it. You ran as fast as you could."

I took a deep breath, and sat staring out the side window again. So. Despite what I wanted, despite what I had tried… I was destined to walk in darkness. Or at least, that was Murphy's interpretation of my soul. And she was the person probably most willing and determined to see the best in me.

Well.

Crap.

My seatbelt suddenly cut into my neck and waist as Murph slammed on the brakes.

"What the hell?" she cursed.

"Gah," I answered. I got my eyes facing forward again.

There was a faerie in the road.

My godmother.


	19. Chapter 19

"Do you want me to run her over?" Murphy asked.

I seriously considered it for a second, then shook my head. "I don't think so. Not yet, anyway."

I stared out the windshield. The Leanansidhe was standing in the middle of the road, staring right back, about fifteen feet away, bathed in the pick-up's headlights. And she looked like Hell. Her dress was a beautiful green, though it hung in tatters. Her hair was limp and looked to be soaking wet, with streaks of white threaded through the normally fiery red. And her face… her eyes were dark, the cheeks were gaunt. Her hands were almost skeletal.

"We need to speak, my godson." Lea's voice was hindered by the glass and metal of the truck's cab, and the sound of the engine, but it had lost none of its ethereal beauty. Even if her body was worse for wear, Lea was still Lea.

"I thought she was… you know, not around," Murph said.

"Last I saw, Mab was torturing her in Arctis Tor."

"Did she escape?"

My head moved side to side. "One does not escape the Winter Queen. One is released… or turned loose."

"Oh, goody. I was afraid this trip was going to get boring."

Enough sitting around. I sighed. "What the hell. You coming?"

Murph glanced at me, then back at the dishevelled sidhe. "After the weekend we've had? Sure, why not?" Her voice sounded like she was getting ready for a walk in the park; her expression said walk in a minefield.

Murphy killed the engine but left the lights on, and we hopped out, _Fidelacchius_ joining us. We stepped up to Lea, who hardly moved. Perhaps subconsciously, we took up flanking positions just outside her reach. Position would do nothing to protect us if she wanted us harmed, of course, but a sidhe can't kill an unassociated mortal, not directly. Murphy was safe.

I, on other hand, as a willing member of the Court, was not.

Lea just kept standing there, hands at her sides, slightly vacant expression on her face.

"Godmother," I said.

"Knight of the Court," she said back. She turned to Karrin. "Knight of the Sword."

Murph looked uncertain for a second, then said, "Hi."

"You were released," I said.

Lea didn't look put out as she turned back to me. "My Queen has seen fit to return my freedom. I am… better now."

"Better?"

"I forgot myself. I tried to usurp my Queen's place. Curry favour with her allies and courtiers." She looked away and twitched. "I took that which was not mine to have." She twitched again, slightly less violently. She blinked and smiled. "La. I have returned to my Queen's favour. My foolishness is purged."

"Purged? How?"

"Why, through pain, my godson. Of course." She twitched again.

"Of course." I shuddered, thinking of what it would take to inflict lasting damage on a sidhe of Lea's power. "Why are you here, Lea?"

"I bring a message from the Queen, dear boy. She has engaged the Queen of Summer directly. Summer and Winter make war to the northwest."

"That's why we haven't seen any Summer Fae."

Lea inclined her head, that same absent smile still on her face. It was unnerving. "It also means, that should you defeat the Red Court, the King and his Lords of Outer Night, the Transit would be undone."

"Really?"

"Of course, godson. Behold the sky." She gestured at the blue-stained-with-red dome above us. "It returns to its natural state. As does Chicago itself."

"Well, that's good news."

"And further, the Queen has entrusted me to deliver unto you a weapon."

I grew wary. Gifts from the sidhe are nothing to sneeze at. Or accept, most of the time. "A weapon? What kind of weapon?"

Her voice shifted to a whisper. "The finest weapon of all." She reached one hand up the opposite sleeve, and pulled out a small knife, still in its sheath. No, on second glance, not _exactly_ a knife.

"What is that?" Murphy asked.

"An athame," I said, turning to her. "_The_ athame."

"The one that bitch stabbed you through the heart with?"

I nodded. "Yup." A standard athame is a blade never intended for shedding blood, or even for physical cutting, but for the closing of circles and channelling of energies; _spiritual_ cutting. It's one of the quintessential tools of practitioners. And this athame was the perfect expression of that. "But it's _incapable_ of spilling blood." I glanced at Lea again. "Well, mortal blood. It can, however, kill anything normally immortal."

"Yes," Lea said. "It is power beyond reason." I looked at her face; her eyes were fixed on the blade. "Power turned upon its head." She stroked one hand along the handle. "Power that inspires."

"Power that corrupts," I said, still looking at her.

Her eyes snapped to mine. She looked back down and drew her other hand away as though it had been burned. She held the athame out to me. "Take it, Harry. I beg of thee." Her eyes were already drifting back down to it as I reached out my hand. I didn't touch her. I don't know why, it just seemed like a bad idea.

Lea turned her hand to drop the old blade into mine. She hesitated.

"Lea!" I said.

She blinked and came back to herself again. Seeing her hand above mine, she finally let go. The solid weight of the athame dropped into my hand, and I immediately placed it in a pocket. Lea watched it go.

Once the blade was out of sight, she blinked a few times, then smiled again, that small, vacant smile. "La. It is a small thing, but I have passed my Queen's test."

"Christ," Murph said. I looked over and saw her hand was on her Sword's hilt. She glanced at me. "Like asking a junkie to deliver heroin."

"My Queen believes the burned hand teaches best," Lea said. "Now, I must return to her side. She bids you destroy the Red King, and protect your city."

"I was going to do that, anyway," I said.

"It is well your wishes and hers coincide, my godson. For if they did not… she would have to purge you of your foolishness."

I tried to look unimpressed and failed.

Lea turned away. "Do not underestimate her, Harry," she said without turning back. "She has made a habit of humbling greater men than yourself. And lesser. She will adhere to the letter of the deal you made with the Lady, of course. But be careful that you do not accept the spirit of the bargain lightly. Also remember that she is gifted with the power of foresight; she would not allow you to use this gift if she did not believe you would need it. The Red King stands nearly as her equal." I grimaced at the implication, but had trouble believing it.

I said, "So, what, you're saying she's guiding me in all this? Controlling me?"

"You would already be dead without her power. The unnatural one you just stood against – the one who called himself Cowl – would have killed you with hardly any effort at all. The mantle is a piece of her." She turned just enough that I could see one of her eyes. It caught a sliver of the returning sun, and blazed with an emerald fire. "A piece of her is within you. Never forget that."

Then she stepped into a shadow and vanished with no fuss at all.

We hopped back into the truck and Murph got it moving just as the rest of the column was catching up to us. I was unsettled, obviously. Murph picked up on it, and decided not to talk about it until she got us on I-90/94. She's awesome that way. "So," she said as we got on the strangely-wide-open lanes. "This new toy of yours." I pulled the old knife out of my pocket. "Powerful?"

I eyed _Fidelacchius_. "On the same level as that toy of yours."

She gave me a startled glance. "You're serious."

I pulled it free of its leather sheath. I'd hardly had a chance to look at it last time I'd been this close to it. Closer, really, since I'd been stabbed in the chest at the time. True to its nature, though, I hadn't died, or even bled.

The blade was solid bronze – no iron would be revered in Faerie, no matter what enchantment or essence it held. The handle was dark, maybe made of ebony. It was carved with small runes and glyphs that were familiar, almost rudimentary versions of the ones McCoy and I had carved into our staves. Which meant I'd be able to use it as a focus. Combined with its natural ability to slay anything immortal…

"Deadly serious," I said.

We drove right into a firefight. Murphy slowed down a bit as we came to the 35th Street overpass. The number of abandoned cars on the freeway had slowly increased as we approached the ballpark, until there seemed to be a double-lane opening heading straight up the off-ramp, and nowhere else to go. The stadium itself loomed up on our right and a little ahead. A lightshow was playing out on its walls; magic and gunfire exchanges. Murph took her foot right off the gas, looking around suspiciously. "Spider-sense tingling?" I asked. She nodded, once, using her cop-face.

One of the other cars in our convoy – it may very well have been the same car that had been sitting outside Murph's house just a few short days ago, when I was a felon and the world made sense – passed us, heading up the off-ramp. The ramp was long, with a mostly-full parking lot stretching along the right side.

I felt a disgusting, oily sensation run up my spine at the same instant Murph's eyes popped open. "No! No, you idiots, get back here!" She smashed the accelerator down again. I got a hand on the dashboard to keep myself steady and hit the button to lower my window. Something was waiting for us at the top of the ramp.

As the car ahead of us reached 35th, a flood of vampires exploded from the bridge. The concrete lip was only about two feet high, but that was enough to hide two dozen masses of squidgy, writhing, char-black flesh. They hit the car like wrecking ball-sized bird shot.

Murphy turned the truck just a bit to point right at the swarm as the car crumpled and went up on two wheels. I leaned way out my window and held the athame tightly in my hand, silently hoping it wouldn't blow up in my hand or just not work at all.

I drew in a breath and a little magic, and with one finger laid along the blade, pointed at the bad guys and shouted, "_Fuego!_"

The air caught fire. That's the only way I can describe it. A solid wall of flame just exploded from the knife, flew forward, enveloped the vampires and a corner of the smashed car, and melted the asphalt.

Murphy stood on the brakes, but the pick-up slid into the gooey, tar-saturated mess. We lurched forward as the tires caught in the industrial quicksand. One of them blew out. Behind us, the rest of the cop convoy screeched to a stop and started piling out of their vehicles. The car ahead of us had been pushed far enough by the vampires that it now rolled over on its roof. And the vampires themselves had been incinerated.

Maybe three or four had survived, and they lay on the road, in the bubbling and steaming asphalt, screaming with inhuman voices, large chunks of their flesh burned away. I looked down at the old knife, then over at Murphy. She was staring at the blade, too. "Wow," she said.

"You're telling me." I stuck my head and arms out of the window again, pointed at the ground and muttered, "_Arctis_." The asphalt solidified almost instantly, a thin layer of frost clinging to it. We both jumped out of the pick-up, and joined the rest of the law-enforcement types as they ran towards the upside-down crumpled lead car. Rawlins and I got there first.

Agent Tilly was in the passenger seat, buckled in. Aside from turning a bit red, and a small cut on his temple, he seemed okay, if woozy. I didn't know the driver, but he hadn't been buckled in and looked much the worse for wear. "Hey, Slim," I said as I got Tilly's door open.

"Mr. Dresden," he said, voice strained.

"You okay?" I dropped down on my back to get a look at his belt. He lifted his hands so I could squeeze in a bit. I heard a trio of gunshots, probably putting the last of the vampires down.

"Been better, obviously. Shoulder feels awful. Might be dislocated."

"Can you feel your legs? Wiggle your toes?"

He paused a second. "Yeah. Everything's still working."

"Okay, I'm going to get out of here. Put your good arm up to brace yourself, I'm going to cut the belt."

He complied with a grunt. I got the athame in my hand slid into the space between the seatbelt and the seat, where Tilly's hip was supposed to be, and my other arm up against his chest. With a gentle tug, the belt gave way under the blade instantly. Tilly crumpled to the roof in slow motion, his knees bumping against the dashboard. The remainder of the seatbelt was hooked around his right arm, but I cut that, too, then a detective – Stallings, it turned out – helped me pull Tilly free.

Once we were out, I saw the operation had been repeated on the driver's side by Rawlins and Rick, Murphy's ex-husband, while everyone else had formed a rough circle around us. We were separated from the chaos at the park by a mess of other vehicles. I heard Murphy say Rick's name, quietly.

I got around the car and joined the conference. The driver was sitting on the distorted pavement. He looked a bloody mess – scalp wound, likely – but he was alive.

"It's not good," Murph was saying. "They're trapped."

"Where?" he asked.

Murph pointed, and I looked. About 500 yards away, in the middle of another parking lot, a rough circle of cars, hot-dog stands, random pieces of metal and masonry, and what looked like a carcass of a crashed helicopter had been assembled into a makeshift breakwater. Or breakvampire, I guess. (Breakpire? Sure.) It looked small, compared to the ballpark beside it. Hastily constructed.

From behind the wall, bursts of gunfire and colourful balls and streaks of light leapt forth and into the vampires, taking them down. All well and good, but the vamps weren't exactly hurting for numbers. There had to be thousands of them, still pouring out of the stadium. They were throwing themselves at the fortification mindlessly. The second the main body of Reds saw our group, we'd be overrun. We had weapons, but there were less than forty of us.

"Not exactly a clear shot, Karrin."

"We have to go. We have to give them a way out."

I glanced around, and up. "Okay," I said. "I've got a problem, and a solution."

"Let's hear them," she said, pulling out her Glock.

"Problem: I can see the red distortion in the sky – the sign of the Transit – is centred on the stadium." I pointed up, above Cellular Park, where a shadow of a twister was formed, a tornado of red smoke. When the Transit was in full swing, when the Sun had been hidden, that smoke would have been invisible. "That means the Red King and his most powerful casters are inside, and we have to get them before Chicago can be safe."

She nodded, slid a magazine into the handgun. "You mentioned a solution?"

"I can get you an opening, to reach the survivors."

"How?"

I smiled. "A distraction. One I've always wanted to pull off."

She shook her head, put the gun into a shoulder holster. "I'm not even going to ask. Just do it."

I nodded. "Just be ready to move when you see it." Then I turned, squeezed between two cars, and started running.

Towards the gasoline tanker truck parked on the off-ramp across the bridge.

The ten foot wall that, in better times, had surrounded the park had been flattened. I didn't try to stay low, or hidden, I just ran down South Wentworth Avenue. As I went, a small group of vamps, six of them, trying to circle around to this side of the breakpire, emerged from behind a turned over minivan and saw me. One of them shrieked, and all of them started to come after me as a group.

I turned a little to aim for the fence at the side of the freeway, down a short, grassy slope. The vamps followed me. I hopped a little at the fence, got a hand on top of it, and swung my legs over. Doing so was surprisingly easy; I supposed that at some point I had to stop being surprised at the Winter Knight upgrade.

The vamps got closer still. Without breaking stride, I lifted the athame, pointed it at them, and snarled, "_Fuego!_" My hand became a flamethrower. I caught three of the damn things head-on, turning them into greasy black smears on the grass. Two of the others turned and fled.

One of them did not. It was either blinded by blood-lust or honestly thought it could take me. As it lunged over the fence, fangs first, I swung the knife at its face.

The blade slid right through its skull. I felt resistance, but it was minor, as though I were cutting through water rather than flesh and bone. The vampire simply collapsed into a loose-limbed mess, with no physical mark on it. I didn't stop to study it.

Running all-out had often been a distraction for me; a way to clear my head, just listen to my heartbeat thundering away and feel the blood pounding in my veins. The run hadn't been too far, maybe 200 yards, mostly downhill. A decent sprint, coupled with a surge of adrenaline the vampires had so generously given me.

I wasn't even breathing hard when I slid to a stop beside the rig. I stopped for a three-count, making sure nothing else was coming after me. I gave a wave back to Murphy and the others. I saw several of them just shaking their heads at me. Karrin just returned my wave.

I stepped back from the rig. Lash appeared next to me. "I understand your confidence that this will work."

"But?"

"But, I am uncertain that you will not be killed in the immediate aftermath."

"There's only one way to find out." I took another step back and started drawing in magic.

I heard her sigh, and vanish. _Good luck, Harry._

_Yeah. To both of us._

I continued to pull in raw power, felt it trying to escape me, a pressure building behind my eyes like a migraine. At the same time, I was shaping the spell I was about to use; usually, it was a pin-point strike, but this time, I needed a wide impact. With a final deep breath, I took in all I could, then snapped my arm forward in an underhand motion, shouting "_Forzare!_"

I felt a rush of power leaving me, and sagged to one knee. For a second, I felt every bit of the lack of sleep, over-use of Soulfire and skipped meals of the last two days weigh down on me. Then it passed. I didn't have time to think about it, but the rapid recovery didn't make me feel good – I realized then that I was still going only on Mab's good grace.

The rig jerked like it had been slapped by the hand of God, and jumped into the air, crumpled and rolling. Drawing my focus back down to a point, I lifted the athame again and shouted, "_Fuego!_" five times. Five tiny balls of fire jumped from the knifepoint like slugs from a slingshot and punched into the side of the still flipping trailer.

My cry of "_Ventas fortius!_" was lost in the explosion.

Hell, _I_ was almost lost in the explosion. I've seen fireballs in movies, usually involving a tanker truck or a car. Almost without exception, they've been enhanced in some way; shooting a car's gas tank isn't all that likely to make it explode, since the gas has to be in a vaporous form to do that, and the gas in the tank is liquid, sealed away from all that pesky air until it gets injected into the engine.

This tanker, however, had cracked in several spots when I hit it, letting air in to mix with the pressurized liquid, and letting some of the now-vaporous gasoline into the air around it. The follow-up fireballs ignited the vapour, and _ka-boom!_

The shockwave from the blast hit me like a truck and knocked me flat on my back, about ten feet behind where I'd been standing. I felt the force on my chest, I felt the heat on my face, I felt the pressure on my eardrums. I managed to keep my head from bouncing off the pavement yet again, though it was a near thing.

But the air spell I tossed out, draining myself pretty thoroughly in the process, swept the fire itself forward on the wings of hurricane-force winds. A wall of flame washed across the parking lot, melting car windows and tires, bubbling asphalt and paint, and incinerating vampires. It blew a cone of destruction 60 feet wide at the near end and 200 feet at the other straight through the lot between the fortress and the cops.

I saw all that a few minutes later. At the time, I was trying to get my legs under me, but they didn't want to move. Oh, and sure, _now_ I was starting to breathe hard. Physical exertion couldn't drain me, but apparently rapid-fire magic could. I managed to turn my head and saw Murphy leading a charge, _Fidelacchius_ out and shining. I took a few breaths, then tried to roll over and failed.

I was also deaf. Not permanently, but everything sounded like it was coming from underwater, even my own breathing. I got a finger up to one ear, dug in and wiggled it. That helped a little. I just lay there and breathed, looking at the oddly streaked sky, feeling strength slowly returning to my limbs. Again, I didn't exactly welcome the sensation, since the fuel in my tank was going on Mab's corporate card.

After a minute or two, I managed to get myself up on one elbow. McCoy, Elaine and Thomas were running up to me. Thomas got to me first, and dropped down beside me, a hand on my shoulder. "You okay?" he said. Wonder of wonders, I actually heard him.

"Hard to tell," I said. "My body keeps writing cheques, and Mab keeps cashing them."

He tilted his head. "Top Gun? Seriously?"

"Problem, Goose?"

Elaine got to us a second later. Her hair was a mess, her face covered in dirt and scratches. Funny. Seeing how beat up she was only drew attention to how put-together Thomas still looked. The bastard. "Harry! Mother of all, you're alive!" She hugged me with one arm. "Was that fireball your work?"

I bounced my eyebrows. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Hoss! You okay?"

"Help me up."

They got me to my feet just as McCoy reached us. In the distance, I could just make out Murphy, Sanya, the cops, soldiers and Wardens forming a column around the civilians, most of them moving under their own power, but many on makeshift stretchers or supported by other people. "Hello, Sir."

"Hell's bells, boy, how did you manage to - " He cut himself off as I held up the athame. I saw recognition flash over his face. "Where did you get that?"

"On loan from the head office," I said.

"Is that an athame?" Elaine asked. She was eying it suspiciously.

"Not a normal one," McCoy said. He shook his head. "Never do anything by halves, do you?"

"How long have you known me Sir?"

He snorted. "Can you move?"

I tried my legs, found they responded. Found I felt physically fine, in fact. "Yes, Sir."

"Then come on. We have to get after those blood-sucking bastards before they regroup. We have a real chance to deal them a blow they'll never recover from."

"They retreated into the stadium?"

"Yeah."

"Well, lead the way," I said.


	20. Chapter 20

He led the way towards the service entrance. Here and there, a few small fires flickered, eating tires and detritus. The stink was pretty bad. I breathed through my mouth and ignored it. I touched Thomas on the elbow. "Hey. Where's Molly? And my bag?"

"You're bag's still in the fort. And Molly?" He pointed at the line of retreating civilians. I saw Alex and Faith, each under one of Molly's arms, moving steadily away.

I took a deep breath. "Good. Lara?"

He looked angry. "Not sure. She was running with the Alphas. Mouse too. They were at the head of the column. They got here first, went around behind the stadium a while ago to scout it. We haven't seen them since we were jumped, Harry."

I clenched a fist. Lara I didn't really care about, and the political considerations between the Council and the White Court could wait to see if we all survived this. The pack, I hoped, was going to be fine. They had to be. Will, Georgia, Andi, all of them. And Mouse.

I shook my head as Thomas ducked off to grab my bag. They would be fine. The pack could handle itself. I caught Murph's eye as she moved near the refugee column. "How's it going?" I asked.

She jogged over. "Well enough. They didn't lose many in the ambush. Maybe two dozen?"

I winced. From 1200, two dozen was a small price to pay. But it was still two dozen people. People who would never go home again. Never see or be seen by loved ones in this life again.

People who I'd let down.

I ground my teeth and said nothing. I had to focus on helping the ones who were left, plain and simple.

"We were lucky," Elaine said. She didn't look at either of us, instead watching the civilians. "It was Mr. McCoy." She looked at him. "If you hadn't been here…" She shook her head. "I don't really want to think about it."

"Did what I had to," my old teacher said. He looked angry about it, too. But also impatient; he wanted to get after the vamps. So did I, but first things first.

I jerked my chin at the survivors. "Where are you taking them?" I asked.

"Sending," Murph said with a note of finality. "Across the highway. Shimer and De la Salle are just a few blocks down. They should be able to get shelter. Just have to get them away from here, really. With Cowl gone and those demons that popped up earlier vanished, they should be safe enough." She paused and looked at McCoy. "I mean, those things aren't coming back, right?"

McCoy said, "My guess is that with the Transit falling apart, they retreated, rather than be banished. I hear it hurts like hell."

"The same with those wolves?"

"Probably."

I glanced aside as Thomas emerged from the breakpire, Fix at his side. The younger man fixed his eyes on me. "Harry." As he came closer, I began to feel a slight pressure, not behind my eyes, but behind my nose. For some reason, I thought of two magnets, pushing against each other.

"Fix."

He looked me up and down, then took a deep breath. "I was afraid this would happen. It's never been a secret that Mab had an interest in you."

"I'll make you a deal; I won't try to kill you unless I'm ordered to, and even then, I'll bring incompetent back-up."

He smirked. "Maybe I can punch you through a tree?"

I shrugged. "Maybe."

"Sounds good."

"You up for a vampire hunt?"

His face hardened. "Always."

John Marcone hobbled out of the breakpire, one of the last to do so. His arm was in a sling, but he walked with his back straight. If I had to guess, I would've said he wasn't on painkillers. Gard was beside him, a hand on his arm. Aside from the ragged, blood-covered blouse, she looked fine. Stupid Valkyries.

I didn't see Helen or Hendricks. Marcone saw us and started in our direction. I eyed him the whole way, the way you keep an eye on an angry dog. "You're going after the vampires," he said.

"Yes."

He looked at Gard, who pulled a pocket watch out of that small pouch she'd been wearing at her belt lately, glanced at it, then nodded once.

"Ms. Gard here would like to accompany you."

"Oh, really?" I said.

"I owe them," she said, putting watch away. "They nearly took Hendricks." After a beat and a glance at her boss, she added, "And Mr. Marcone. It is a matter of professional pride."

"You need a weapon?" McCoy asked. He had edged closer to the stadium, and eagerness was turning to outright anxiousness.

"I will find something," she said. The scary grin that spread across her face told us she wouldn't have a problem.

"I'm all for bringing more troops," McCoy said. "Anyone else?"

I turned and shouted, "Sanya!"

The big man came jogging up a second later, smiling. "Is always good to see you, Harry. You always put on a good show."

"Yeah, fireworks are my specialty." I looked around. "Anyone seen Ana?"

Everyone exchanged glances. "Damn," McCoy muttered. Some of the eagerness ebbed, and he looked tired again.

"She was at the back of the column," Elaine said.

"Right where they jumped us," Thomas added.

"Lots of fire tossed around," Sanya said, for once not smiling.

"Where?"

"Other side of bridge," the Knight said, pointing.

I took a step in that direction. "Hoss. No time."

McCoy's voice was like cold water in my face. "Dammit."

I lowered my head, closed my eyes. Ana hadn't been the love of my life, but we had cared for each other. She was good people. She still looked in on her family's descendants, checking every few years to see if any of them had developed talents. It was a way of reassuring herself that she was still fighting for something.

And she had been one hell of a warrior.

Wait a second. I opened my eyes and looked at the Valkyrie. "Sigrun?"

She was already shaking her head. "Several Wardens and soldiers died, Dresden. I don't know their names. I felt their deaths coming barely seconds before it happened. And I was at the other end of the column. I didn't see her die, but I felt several warriors fall."

She'd died saving people's lives, just as she'd always lived.

All I could offer her in thanks, now, was revenge. I looked at McCoy, and I saw the same thoughts dancing on his face. Without another word, he turned and started towards the stadium's service entrance.

McCoy took point and I brought up the rear, Murphy and Sanya flanking us and the others in the middle.

We passed through the service entrance loading doors, which had been broken open and left that way. The interior was dark and shadowy and foreboding and horror movie-like. There were dozens of little places where a vampire could fit. I kept my shield bracelet ready and the athame pointed.

There were crates and cases and boxes and various kinds of shelving everywhere, most of it spread around the floor. A few cases of nacho trays had fallen hard after the quakes, and spilled towers of black and clear plastic all over the concrete floor. There was no way to walk over them without making a racket. Gard picked up a heavy metal leg from a fallen shelving unit, twirled it, nodded to herself and kept walking. I saw Thomas reach into my bag and pull out my old shotgun. A genuine double-barrel sawed-off. Funny, I had loaned that one to Thomas ages ago, and could have sworn he never gave it back.

We moved relatively quickly. There were only two or three turns between the delivery rooms and the stadium proper, all through nice, wide, ambush-free hallways. It creeped me out that no one and nothing tried to stop us. McCoy, Elaine and I provided light.

Finally, after taking yet another dark turn, McCoy looked around. "The hell with this," he muttered. He put his hand against a wall, murmured to himself for a moment. I felt a gathering of power, simple yet enormous, as he pushed.

The wall blew outward, raising an enormous wind and ruckus. The hall was suddenly open to center field, debris covering the well-manicured lawn.

"That is much more convenient," Sanya said.

We all poured out. There, near the pitcher's mound, stood almost a dozen human-ish creatures; The Lords of Outer Night. And I have to admit, the name was appropriate; they did look like a bunch of loons. They stood in a circle, facing out. Each was taller than I was, but that might have had something to do with the enormous, grotesque golden masks they were wearing.

Each wore a colourful, gaudy robe, covered in designs made of gold thread. From that distance, I couldn't make out much detail, but I guessed each was unique. Above them, the red dust of the Transit swirled and writhed, a twister made of magic, slowly painting the sky. Given enough time, the Transit would be re-asserted, and Chicago would be drawn all the way back into Hell.

They saw us, of course. Their heads turned towards us, though they otherwise didn't move.

"Now what?" Fix asked.

"Can you crush them from here, Sir?"

"I think so," McCoy said. He stuck his hand out, curled his fingers like he was grabbing something, and pulled. As if he had just pulled it off a rack, a staff of pure black wood materialized in his hand.

The Blackstaff.

I stared. So, that was what he meant when he gave me his staff and said he had another one. I hadn't realised the position came with a rod of office, but I guess it made sense. It almost looked like it was cut from the same wood as the athame's handle.

He planted the heavy-looking staff in the ground at his feet and lifted one hand, to point at the circle of ostentatious vampires. "Stay behind me," he said. He took aim. I could feel the gathering of power around him, enough power that it felt like electricity in the air, and some of the hair on my neck started to stand up.

There was a slight thrumming in my feet. McCoy was about to unleash a gravity bomb.

About to unleash it.

Any second now.

But he didn't. And the power was slipping away.

"Sir?"

I heard him grunt. I glanced at Elaine; we didn't need to exchange thoughts to know we were both thinking the same thing: Anything that could immobilize McCoy was terribly powerful. With a tinge of worry, I stepped forward, just far enough to see his face. His eyes found mine, but he didn't turn his head. I saw the panic there. He didn't move because he _couldn't_. Crap.

"Sir?" I stepped in front of him and felt like I'd slid in front of an open fire hydrant. The sudden impact of pure power on my back knocked me into Ebenezar, and we both fell down. But the power that had been holding him vanished.

"Harry?" Fix said. "What just - " He cut himself off, and I rolled over to see why. I followed his gaze downfield. From between the loons, a fat, stocky, bulbous and solid black creature had emerged. Its mouth opened, revealing a large, pink tongue and a ridiculous number of long, sharp teeth. A Red Court vampire, shorn of its flesh mask.

The Red King.

It screamed, high-pitched and piercing. An answering scream came from the bleachers. We all looked around as damn near every seat in the stadium seemed to come to life and shake. Vampires, hundreds, maybe thousands of them, some with human skin and some without, jumped out from behind the seats and started down towards us.

"Blood Slaves," Thomas muttered.

"Oh, boy," Fix said. He pulled his shotgun, Gard lifted mine, Sanya swung his AK-47 around, Thomas pulled out two giant pistols, and Murph's Glock seemed to grow out of her hand. Bullets started flying. The noise was deafening. Some vampires were split open and fell, but the numbers were too large to even comprehend, let alone describe. The vamps from the outfield seats descended first, and I barely had time to throw up a shield before the first wave was on us.

Fortunately, McCoy and Elaine were beside me. The combined shield we threw up was rock solid, and dozens of vampires bounced off, hitting the others like dodgeballs. "Fall back!" I shouted. We moved slowly, a step at a time farther into the field. Bullets kept flying, and so did vampires, but the shield was only so big, and in just a few seconds, they would swarm around it. Then the vamps from the _rest_ of the stadium would be on us. I would have tossed fire between gaps in the shield, but there _were_ no gaps; McCoy and Elaine were too damn good.

Elaine, on my right, had Sanya, Gard and Fix on her side, guns blazing. McCoy had Thomas and Murphy, smaller guns but better shots. A few vamps actually tried to climb the shield wall. Sensing my time to shine, I pointed the old knife and started unleashing fire and ice, sending charred and frozen vampsicles crashing back down on their brethren.

"Enough of this," I heard McCoy say. He twisted around to get the Blackstaff pointed at the swarm approaching us from the left field side. "Down!" he shouted. Thomas and Murphy both threw themselves out of the way.

About three hundred vampires collapsed as their heads exploded simultaneously.

Wow.

Then he turned to the other side and did it again, Sanya and Fix ducking out of the way and Gard throwing herself behind Elaine.

Instant breathing space.

Double wow.

In the three seconds of space we had, I turned back to McCoy. I saw his hand and thought for a moment he had been burned; lines of black… _something_, perfectly matching the dark wood of the Blackstaff, had stretched up his arm, covering his hand completely. And they were _moving_.

I had no time to think about it; movement above me drew my eye, and I loosed a few more gouts of flame at the vamps up there. With a grunt of effort, I heard and felt Elaine's shield go down. Sanya and Fix immediately started firing again, and I let loose with some more ice spells. I saw Gard checking her watch again, then getting up and swinging her makeshift club like a real major-leaguer.

Then I heard McCoy grunt, too. His shield didn't fall, but when I snapped my head around, he was down on one knee, arm still extended to hold up his shield. As I watched, first Thomas, then Murphy stopped firing and collapsed to their knees, then fell flat to the ground, unable to move.

I turned all the way around, and saw the Red King, now only a few dozen feet away. He was moving slowly, languidly, like he had all the time in the world. I whipped up the athame and shouted, "Fuego!"

The king raised a hand and the fire just kind of bent away from him. Then his head turned a little to the side. Fix, Sanya, Gard and Elaine were suddenly thrown to the ground, pinned down. The vamps who had been trying to overrun us were driven back, and started cowering and grovelling well out of reach of my friends.

I dropped my shield, and felt McCoy do the same. I kept my eye and my athame on the King as he lumbered to within twenty-five feet of me. Beside me, McCoy was struggling to stand, but didn't seem to be able to make it. A quick glance told me no one else was moving, but they were trying. I could feel the power radiating off the King, now. He was holding them in place through sheer force of will. And making it look easy.

It was like Lea had said; the son of a bitch was on par with a Faerie Queen in terms of sheer power.

He tilted his head at me, like he was studying me. I wanted to incinerate him, but he'd already made me look like I was shooting a water gun at him. And I was pretty sure he was holding the rest of the vamps off, and if I disrupted his concentration, my friends would be swarmed. So I waited.

And as I watched, the vampire King assembled a flesh mask. It was really creepy and a bit incongruous, like cheap stop-motion animation. A layer of human skin, deep tan in colour, burst out of the King's own oily black hide, bit by bit and patch by patch, as his body began to shrink in on itself.

Watching a vampire burst _out_ of a flesh mask is creepy enough – you basically see a human being explode into a thrashing, demonic monster, like in Alien or some old horror movie. Watching a vampire _create_ a flesh mask is a hundred times worse, because while the shape and colour and size become more human-like, you still see the parts of the monster pulsating and writhing while the bits come together.

Makes you wonder what's inside of all the people you see walking down the street, doesn't it?

The King finally came together, so to speak. Just before he finished with his, uh, delicate bits, two vamps in the crowd rushed forward with a long red swatch of cloth and wrapped it around his waist, then dashed back to their places

Now that I was looking at him, all the holes in his skin closed, a little hair on the head, I wasn't that disgusted. He was short, for one thing. Maybe shorter than Murphy. He'd grown himself some black hair, just long enough to cover his neck. His eyes were dark brown. He took a few more steps forward.

"Mortal," he said. He had an accent, but it wasn't too thick. Even from his tiny stature, he was somehow looking down his nose at me.

I glanced side to side at everyone else, still unable to even raise their arms, each of them giving the King an angry look. Or giving me a desperate one. McCoy was still struggling to rise from one knee. Through clenched teeth, and with a lot of sarcasm, I said, "Your highness."

He eyed the athame, recognition flashing in his eyes. "Lower the weapon."

"No."

He raised his eyebrows. From all around, every single vampire screamed. It was the same sound the King had made a few minutes ago, piercing and inhuman, too high to be anything natural. But it was worse. Higher, longer. It was the kind of sound that caused you to crawl under the covers, shut your eyes and hope the monster passed you by. It was the sound of a Ringwraith, the monster under your bed, that strange thumping sound you sometimes hear at one in the morning, and your neighbour's hungry dog all rolled into one.

A few years back, I was caught by some Reds while trying to rescue someone. The things they did to me are… hard to describe, and I still don't like to think about it. That sound brought all of those memories rushing back, and I shuddered.

Once the sound died away, I looked at the King again.

Through clenched teeth he said, "Lower. It."

_Harry_, Lash whispered, _lower the knife._

_What? Are you on his side?_

_No. But you should point the knife down. Into the earth._

_What are you – oh. Oh, sneaky._

On the outside, I slowly lowered my arm, letting the athame point directly into the ground, and put all my focus into forming a spell.

"What do you want?"

"The Summer Queen is a powerful ally. She offers much, in exchange for you."

"She fears me," I heard my voice say.

"Yes," the King said. He gave me a once over. "Though I cannot see why." He took a step forward.

My left arm jumped up, fingers curled in a traditional warding gesture. I kept my focus on the gravity spell. A ring, starting just beyond where everyone was lying. _Almost there_…

The King just laughed, though he did stop walking. "You may be strong. You may have hidden power. But you are mortal. You are nothing before us. Nothing before _me_."

"And yet," my mouth ran on, "Titania herself fears me. Perhaps you should consider that further." My legs each took a step.

"Perhaps you should bow down before I have your companions ripped to pieces and devoured!" He was shouting. Both of our faces contorted with anger, though I'm pretty sure mine didn't ripple with unnatural movements beneath the skin.

I said nothing. My head turned first to one side, then the other. _Just a few more seconds…_

"Submit to me, and they will live. Or stand, and they die. Slowly."

"I thought she wanted me dead."

He shrugged, a deceptively human gesture. "She changed her mind last night, as she has done every night for thousands of years. Now. Submit."

Deep breath. My arm slowly went down, and the King grew a smile. "Before I do, I must say one thing."

The king tilted his head.

_Ready._

_All yours_, Lash said.

I took back control of my mouth and body from Lash, who I have to say, did a pretty good impression of me. I shouted, "_Geodus_!"

Energy swept from me, down the athame and its perfect focus, and into the ground. That power flowed down in an arc, coming right back up to the surface about fifteen feet away in a perfect circle, and spreading out. Fifteen feet was just beyond where Murphy lay on one side and Sanya on the other, and just before where the King stood.

He was pulled down into the turf, off balance, while the nearest vampires were crushed outright. The King lost his concentration as he was pulled backwards, and his will faltered.

I heard McCoy shout wordlessly in triumph; he jumped to his feet and charged forward, swinging the Blackstaff. The King was thrown into the air by invisible force. "He's mine!" my old teacher said, and ran forward. The others rolled to their feet. I spun to see Murph and Sanya pulling their Swords free. With Gard, they charged into the now-charging crowd, weapons swinging. My heart jumped into my throat as Karrin and her weapon were swallowed by a red and black mob.

I took a step toward her, but a vampire came charging at me from the side; I snapped off a spell that froze it solid then kicked it over. By the time I turned my head back, I'd lost track of Murphy.

Fix, Thomas and Elaine found their way back me. "Are you okay?" Elaine asked. I was breathing heavily. I nodded, frustrated. Despite the strength I'd borrowed from Mab, I suspected that I was in for a rough recovery. Of course, I'd have to live to see that. And to have any chance of _that_, the Transit had to end. Murph would have to wait.

I pointed at the Lords of Outer Night, still standing in their circle. "We have to take the Loons," I said.

Off to the side, we watched as McCoy and the King, free of his flesh mask once more, charged into each other; McCoy hit him with a ball of blue light, which bounced off the King's shoulder; McCoy caught one huge claw on the Blackstaff itself and twisted it down. Then they both backhanded each other with magically-enhanced blows, and blew apart.

"Damn," Fix said, eyes locked on my grandfather.

"No kidding," I said. "He can hold his own for a few minutes; we'll help him once the loons are down."

We got about fifteen feet before the remaining vamps started to close us in, protecting their masters. We formed a rough square, Fix at the front, Thomas behind and Elaine and me on the flanks.

"Well, so much for that heroic charge," Elaine said.

"Yeah, this could be going better," Thomas said.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "There can only be about four, five hundred of them surrounding us. Tops. Murph and the others are probably dealing with more than that right now."

"Stars," Elaine cursed from behind me. "Molly was right. You _are_ in love with her."

I spun around to look at her. "What?"

The vampires charged us. I twirled back around and loosed a wall of flame while Fix started swinging his sword and Thomas produced a couple of short combat knives from up his sleeves. Behind me, lightning struck the ground.

"I said you're in love with Murphy!"

"I heard that!"

"Then why'd you ask? _Intria_!"

"Hell's bells! _Forzare_!" It was like Murph and my fight with the zombies all over again. "I mean why did you say that? What did you mean?"

Thomas chimed in, "It's kind of obvious, Harry." Then he was cutting a claw from a vampire's arm while simultaneously disembowelling it.

"What's obvious? _Fuego_! Elaine, is this because I didn't kiss you properly earlier?"

"It's been a long time coming, Harry. _Scavil_!"

"You think I'm in love because I mentioned her instead of Gard and Sanya?"

Thomas said, "She's always the first one you talk about. The first person you think of, the first one you worry about. How do you think it is with me and Justine?"

"Are you people seriously having this conversation?" Fix shouted. His sword never stopped moving, and his voice sounded panicked.

I brought up a shield and bounced three vampires off it. "_Arctis_! This is ridiculous! Of course I worry about her, she's my best friend!"

"Oh, please, Harry," Elaine said, "it's an indication – _vires_! – of how you feel!"

"Elaine, how can you say that?"

"Like I said: It's obvious, Harry," Thomas said. "Just like it's obvious she loves you."

"What!"

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Fix cursed. "You love her, she loves you, and you're both too damn stubborn to admit it! Can we please talk about this later! We need to kill the vampires so I can find Lily!"

The sudden reminder that Lily was still in danger, Titania probably holding a knife to her throat, was like a slap in the face. I threw a lot of frustration into my internal magic engine as fuel, whipped the old knife around and shouted, "_Pyrofuego_!" About 40 vampires popped and fried, leaving us a momentary way forward, though the stench was even worse than out in the parking lot. "Move!"

As the parted Red Vampire Sea started to roll in on us again, something caught my eye, and I grabbed Fix's shoulder to pull him to a stop. "Hold up!"

"What?"

The Red King hit the ground on his back not three feet in front of us and bounced by, bowling over dozens of vampires. A blade of fire – not a bolt, not a ball, not a beam, but an actual, sword-shaped, _blade of fucking fire_ – went zipping after him. Ebenezar McCoy came flying – again, I'm being literal – after him, screaming; he didn't seem to notice us, but I saw the black lines on his arm had grown and thickened. His right arm was totally black. In fact, it looked just like a Red Court Vampire's skin. I watched McCoy hit the ground as the King got out of the way, and felt the tremor he kicked up.

Then Thomas grabbed my shoulder and wheeled me around. Murphy, Gard and Sanya were putting up a fighting retreat as they moved towards us, carving a path through a surging tide of vampires. For a moment, I took in the whole outfield; it was a freaking mess. There were streaks of red and puddles of black everywhere. But Murphy was okay.

I mean, all three of them were okay. For the moment. The crimson tide was still rolling in. _Lash, I'm sorry, but we need to end this._

_I understand. Do what you must; I will help you._

I glanced at Elaine, and sent her a quick mental message; she nodded and we went to work while Thomas and Fix covered our backs. I put my hand on hers, tapped just a little Soulfire, and suffused both of our spells.

It was an interesting, if brief, study in contrasts. On Elaine's side, the soil and grass erupted to life, sinking and growing, grabbing and slapping, as water and sudden, rampant growth ripped through the ground and the vampires upon it. On mine, the ground turned to a sheet of ice, freezing to the feet of many vampires and either holding them fast or breaking them off.

I cut off the flow, wooziness and dizziness competing for dominance in my head. And nothing else. I felt no fear, no worry, no relief.

_Harry, you cannot use Soulfire again. There is so little left…_

Slowly, like emerging from fog, my awareness and emotions came back. I shook my head.

Elaine was all but panting. But Gard and the Knights had a clear path back to us. They bolted, slashing and kicking at the vamps unlucky enough to be held in place close to the opening.

"Hey, magic-people!"

Elaine and I turned at the sound of Fix's voice. The vamps were pushing in from that side, the remaining two or three hundred rushing to get between us and the Lords of Outer Night, maybe another hundred behind us, flowing after Gard, Sanya and Murphy. Thomas was moving quickly – his hands were actually blurring. He was standing just ahead of Fix, slashing and stabbing left and right, cutting down vampires and making it look easy.

But even he was starting to slow. Elaine lifted her hand, then winced and dropped it. "I'm tapped," she said.

"Thomas, move left!" I shouted. He did, and I pointed the athame. "_Arctis_!" The spell released a blast of ice – but it wasn't a big blast, like I'd been hoping for. It only slowed down about a dozen vamps, only bought Thomas about two seconds, and pulled me to my knees. Despite the Winter Knight's mantle, I was exhausted. I took a few deep breaths, but couldn't get my wind back.

Sanya stepped past us, joining Thomas and Fix, while Gard and Murph skidded to a stop behind. Elaine and I just kind of stood there, trying to catch our breath as our friends fought for our lives. One vamp got past Gard; I swung the athame at it, caught its arm. The limb went dead. It screeched at me before Thomas turned and put a knife through its head. I yanked the athame out and put it through the thing's heart. It dropped instantly.

Thomas swung back around and cut another vamp's belly open, hardly breaking his rhythm. But I'd seen his eyes. They were turning silver. His demon would be starving soon, and he'd have no choice but to feed. As I watched, he took a vicious slice to the left arm with a grunt; he didn't stop fighting, but he did start bleeding.

On my other side, Gard took a glancing blow to the side and lost her footing. I jabbed forward, taking the vamp in the throat; it died quietly, but it was replaced quickly. Murphy took a wide swing, decapitating one vampire and removing another's hand; then Gard jumped back up and put her improvised club through its brain. She had dug out her watch again.

"You're checking the time?" I asked.

"Yes. Almost there!"

"Almost where?"

A vamp got a leg past Murphy, and Elaine took a kick to the shin. I heard a crack. "Elaine!" Murph and I both lunged at the same time; she took it in the side, I got its chest. It dropped.

I dropped to one knee over Elaine. "Are you okay?"

She'd gone pale already, eyes wide, jaw clenched. "No," she forced out, as a low, rumbling cry rolled across the ballpark. I turned my head to see the Red King smashing into the home team dugout. McCoy, black tendrils now advancing down his left arm, was marching towards him. Every single vampire attacking us stopped moving.

Then, as one, they all started running for McCoy, dodging around us and shrieking. The next few seconds played out in slow motion to me.

"No!" I tried to take a step forward and stumbled. I just didn't have any juice left. Even getting out of my crouch was hard. Sanya and Thomas started forward, but they would never be able to stop the vampires. Through the crowd, I saw McCoy turn and raise the Blackstaff. Nothing happened. He looked over at the Loons, and I followed his gaze. I saw they had all turned to look at McCoy. No vampires fell to the deathstick, its magic blocked by power just as old as itself. And my grandfather stood struggling, rooted to the spot, held by the will of those damnable old creatures.

I tried to call up magic, but I had only exhaustion to fuel it with. Soulfire was off the table. I reached for Hellfire instead, shouted, "_Fuego_!" The resulting fire scorched the grass, except for some of the stuff Elaine had saturated, and only caught about half a dozen vamps, the rest ignoring it. I still had my force rings on, and they had recharged a bit. I triggered two of them, but that only pushed them closer to him.

Ebenezar McCoy was going to die, and I couldn't save him.

Thomas had left Sanya behind a dozen paces ago, keeping pace with the other vampires, and even making some headway, cutting two of them down. But even he wouldn't make it in time.

But he was trying. He still had strength left. I had done everything I could, called in every favour, rounded up every ally, made a horrible bargain and maybe even burned out my own soul. And my family was still going to die.

Evidently, I wasn't the only one who felt that was just not acceptable.

A loud, rousing growl came from the visitor's dugout, just behind Ebenezar; Mouse, Lara and the Alphas exploded out from it, and met the charging vamps head on. Fangs and flesh met in a bloody display, but the unstoppable force of vampires had met an impenetrable barrier of werewolves. Lara had, at some point, evidently found an excuse to lose her dress; it was so like her to end up naked in a fight I gave it no more thought.

Murphy pulled me to my feet as I let out a cheer. I turned to look at her; there was a large cut across her cheek, and the small finger on her right hand looked broken, and she had gash on her left arm that was held closed with a very small, very red strip of her shirt. But she still held _Fidelacchius_. And, wouldn't you know it, she was beautiful. "I love it when the cavalry charges in," she said.

"I was about to say the same thing," I said. I turned back to the others. Elaine was still on the ground, her leg broken and pointing in an odd direction. Fix was beside her, his hand against his side, where his shirt was stained red. One of his arms didn't look to be working. "Oh, hell's bells," I cursed. I looked back at the scrum; the line the Alphas had created seemed to be holding, but the vamps were piling on thicker. I was suddenly worried about the Alphas, and not sure which way to turn.

Karrin put a hand on my arm. "I got this. Stay with them."

I put my hand over hers. "I don't…" … _want_ _you to go_. But she had to, didn't she?

"Finally," I heard Gard say.

I turned to see her looking at her watch. Then she pitched it at the fight, Nolan Ryan style. The watch flew forty feet, hit the ground, and exploded into a lightshow. A round hole in reality snapped into existence above it, its circumference consisting of green lighting.

And _einherjar_ poured out of it. A dozen, two, three. Heavily armed and armoured immortal mercenaries with thick Scandinavian accents ran forward, guns blazing in controlled, directed bursts. Vampires fell by the score.

From within the crowd, I saw several bursts of light; McCoy was moving again. The Lords of Outer Night were still standing in the same place, but now their arms were moving; as I watched, several _einherjar_ were pushed back or crushed under invisible power.

The vampires were still losing, but if the loons weren't taken out, it would be a pyrrhic victory. I glanced at Fix and Elaine, then turned to Gard. "Can you watch them?"

"Of course."

I winked at Karrin. "Shall we?"

She smiled and hefted the old Sword.

I hoped that with the all the fighting, the loons would be too distracted to notice us. We had just about made it to second base (ha!) when that illusion was shattered. It was like I'd walked into a wall. Just one of the Lords was now looking at us, the rest still focussed on the fight. I didn't fall down, but just lifting my leg, trying to put one foot forward seemed impossible.

Then _Fidelacchius_ was between me and the bad guy, and the pressure was gone. "Stay behind me, Harry," Murph said.

"Not a problem," I said. We started forward, and I felt myself getting a second wind. Or maybe my ninth - I'd lost track.

The loon who was focussing on us stepped out of the circle, and his buddies adjusted to close the hole. The red cyclone above them continued, with just a slight ripple of clear sky through it. Murph and I stopped advancing. I could understand them not wanting to give up on the Transit spell; it's hard and time-consuming to get going, let alone complete, but just one vampire? I wondered if they making this too easy.

I have got to stop wondering things like that.

The vampire reached up and took off his mask, revealing a perfectly normal human face, set several inches below mine and several inches above Karrin's.

The vampire lord grinned at us. _Okay. Perfectly normal human face, except for the teeth._ Long, sharp rows, all mostly red-black stared back at us. "Oh, boy." The vampire held his arms out to the sides, and in his palms, small balls of blue-black energy started to form. Before I could even try to throw up a shield, Karrin took a step forward, Sword swinging.

The son of a bitch jumped over us. I fell to one knee, managed to rotate on that knee, and got the knife pointed back at him. I quickly checked over my shoulder to make sure the others were still standing still and chanting away. Murph had _Fidelacchius_ back at guard.

When I looked back, the vampire lord was smiling at us. He was letting his natural hands out of his flesh mask. As we watched, the claws grew from hand-sized to long, sharp and solid black, with pieces of pretend skin flaking off here and there. The fraying edges of the skin costume remained at his wrists, looking like cheap, torn fabric. And the dark power he'd been gathering was growing again in his hands.

We'd have to take this guy before we could stop the others, or he'd just rip us open from behind. I moved to the right, and Karrin went left. The loon didn't move, instead flicking his eye between us. I took a step closer, hoping I could pull together enough mojo to incinerate him. I blinked, and he was a blur.

I stumbled from an impact and fell to my knees again.

I felt something, on my right arm. Something warm. Looking down, I saw the leather around my right bicep had split, and blood began to seep out. What the hell? I turned back to the lord, tearing the knee right out of my jeans in the process.

He was licking his fingers, still shining with my blood and that unnatural energy. Whatever it was, it allowed his claws to act like a Warden's sword, cutting through magical defences.

Crap. I was too tired and adrenalated to think of what kind of magic could cut through the re-enforced leather. A powerful enough bullet could do it, of course. I supposed that concentrating all that power they'd been trying to sledgehammer me with - power that could paralyse_ Ebenezar McCoy_ - along a razor-thin edge could do it. Hell, I was lucky he hadn't taken my arm off.

Murph was at my side again.

"Well, that didn't work," I said through gritted teeth. She stood between me and the vampire while I heaved myself to my feet.

"Nope," she said. "Can you work any magic?"

"Not sure." My left hand was holding my right arm, which some idiot had dipped in pepperjack sauce; the cut was burning like nobody's business.

"Try." Then, with no further ado, she leapt forward.

_Fidelacchius_ moved like butterfly's wings, back and forth in a blur, yet beautiful. The loon's claws swept and raked but did not block. The loon might have had a marginal edge just in terms of sheer power, but so long as the Lord's adamantium was magically created, _Fidelacchius_ would even the odds. It was up to me to give Karrin a clear advantage.

I didn't have time to wait for my amped-up recovery powers to kick in. And while it might have been smart to turn around and try to kill the other Lords of Outer Night, I wasn't about to abandon a friend in the middle of a fight. So, what did I have?

A Fallen Angel full of advice and an autopilot setting, some Hellfire that I was having trouble focussing properly, six partially charged force rings, a magic coat that was literally falling apart, a magic knife that I couldn't get close enough to use, and a shirt rapidly starting to soak up my blood.

_My blood_.

Bam. Usually, I have to fuel magic with my emotions and my willpower, which for an overly-sensitive, stubborn cuss like me is easy. But blood makes great fuel, too. In your face, vampires!

I spun in a quick circle, tracing a line through the grass with the athame, sealing it with a drop of blood off my finger. Instantly, the air around me felt tight. Then, flexing my arm, which hurt a not-inconsiderable amount, I got a good flow going, and gathered some in the palm of my left hand.

"_Ventas sangrias, ventas sangrias,_" I murmured. Murph was still moving, still weaving, still dodging… but the vampire wasn't getting any slower. "_Ventas sangrias,_" I said one more time, forming the spell and dipping the athame in that little puddle of my blood. I brought the athame up to cut the circle. As the blade passed the barrier, I pointed it at the vamp's feet and shouted, "_Dispertius!_"

The ground opened up and swallowed the vampire Lord. Whole. He squealed as he fell. "_Resarcius!_" The hole sealed up, crushing him. And I didn't even feel short of breath.

Murph stared at the ground, then turned back to me. I grinned and shrugged. She smiled back and turned to the other loons.

The Red King fell out of the sky, landing with a scream between us and the Lords of Outer Night. The impact threw me off my feet. I hit the ground flat on my back, but somehow managed to hold onto the athame by two fingers. I rolled over, and saw the fight in shallow left field was wearing down both sides; there were literally more vampire carcasses than I could count, but more than a few _einherjar_ had fallen. I couldn't see Sanya.

Gard and Fix had pulled Elaine a few dozen yards further away; I saw Lara and Thomas back-to-back, moving like glittering, gore-covered demons. One of Thomas' arms was a bloody mess and one of Lara's bare legs was the same. They'd given up using weapons, and were simply grabbing vampires, who would then stagger, writhe, and fall. They were feeding. Thomas' clothes were shredded. My bag had been discarded at some point. Mouse and the Alphas had moved to get between us and the remains of the horde. The mercs were still firing. And above them all, Ebenezar McCoy was leaping through the air like the Incredible Hulk.

McCoy hit the ground between the King and me. I bounced in place. His overalls were ripped, his shirt was more hole than fabric, but his skin was unbroken. Some of his hair had been burned away. Both of his arms were solid black, as was most of his torso that I could see; and I could have sworn I saw little ink-like tendrils riding up his neck. The King tried to stare him down with that telekinetic freeze frame trick – I know because I caught the edge of it – but Murphy appeared beside McCoy and the power vanished.

I heaved myself to my feet. The King, looking at each of us, seemed to finally get desperate. He gave a relatively low screech over his shoulder, and the loons finally moved, coming to help him, giving up on the Transit.

All that effort, lost. What a shame.

The red dust flying up into the sky began to disappear, and the real air of the world I knew and loved came flooding back in, stronger than ever. It was dusk.

"The King is mine," McCoy growled. He threw himself at the King again, and Karrin charged forward at the same time. With my blood smeared on the athame, I called up a little Hellfire and loosed a fire spell at the two loons closest to me. They threw up some sort of shield, but they were still driven back. I even winged the King himself.

McCoy came down on the big guy like the hammer of God. And the way he swung the Blackstaff, it kind of looked like a hammer, too. The King's return blow bounced off a shield McCoy created from a ring on his left middle finger; he absorbed the strike then used his finger in another traditional way.

The King tried to bring both fists down together in a crushing blow; McCoy dodged and spun to deliver a backhanded fist of his own, then lifted a fist. The ground heaved with his movement, tossing the King into the air.

Murphy cut down one of the loons almost laughably easily; the Lord tried to hit her, and she simply cut his arm off, followed by his face on the backswing. Then she stepped around his falling corpse and engaged another one. This one tried to throw fire at her. A slice of _Fidelacchius_ disembowelled him, but also sent his fire spell wide.

Right into McCoy, in fact. My teacher absorbed the spell without harm, but it distracted him for just a second. The King got in a vicious punch that sent McCoy flying back. Outrage welled up in me, and was charging forward before I realized it.

I got within two feet of stabbing the King in the head. His arms came up, faster than I could see. One got around my right wrist, the other around my neck. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move. He yanked the athame out of my hand, looked at it, then very deliberately threw it away. Me, he tossed into the air, just a little. Then he kicked me, right in the chest.

I flew backwards, breath driven from me. I felt my ribs crack. My limbs whipped about. I saw stars.

Then I was on the ground, flipping over. I slid along the slick grass, twisted in every possible way, and came to a stop on the line between second and third, nearly bent double like a ragdoll. I probably shouldn't have survived that flight, but once again the Winter Knight's mantle proved its worth. My back straightened, pulling my head up like a ball on the end of an antenna. I sucked in air in a huge gasp, my lungs on fire. My limbs were numb. My eyes slowly got their focus back.

The colourful blur of the world resolved itself. I saw my hands, which were empty, the athame lost. I managed to get my head facing forward on a loose and limp neck.

I found the athame.

It was sticking out of my brother's chest.


	21. Chapter 21

Thomas was on the ground, eyes closed, not moving. The ancient knife was lodged in his heart at a sharp, low angle. Lara was standing over him, screaming in rage and frustration. Behind me, McCoy was reacting the same way. I barely heard them.

I was completely numb. Thomas - my brother – was dead. My eyes crossed and the world started going black again. No. No, this could not be happening. I fell back, rolled over, and threw up what little there was in my stomach.

No.

The blackness at the edges of my vision started turning red.

No!

Heat rushed into my limbs, all exhaustion and physical pain forgotten.

NO!

I was lying face down in the grass. I was on my feet and running at the King. I was jumping through the air. I was screaming.

NO!

I unloaded all the remaining force rings on my right hand as I punched at the King's head. I knocked the fucking bastard flat on his back. Then I was unloading my left hand, splitting the mottled, ugly skin over his face.

His arm came up to hit me, and I grabbed it. I stopped that blow. His other arm came up, and I caught that, too. I held him fast. I stared him down, eye to eye. And I saw anger, hatred and fear on his face.

Then the Blackstaff came down, straight down, through his face and into the ground.

The arms went limp in my grip. I wasn't done, though. I dropped the arms and jumped on top of the body, hitting it over and over, yelling, pounding on the mushy, bloated, disgusting waste of space and blood that had taken my family away from me. The body began to decompose even as I sat on it.

"Harry," a voice said.

I kept hitting and making noise.

"Harry," it said again, more firm. I stopped, suddenly and profoundly tired. I heard bursts of gunfire, and rapidly fading unnatural screams. And my own hitched breathing. There might have been some sobs in there, too.

A small but strong hand found my shoulder. It pulled me to my feet, away from the vampire. I stumbled and almost knocked Karrin over, but she kept us both standing. I found myself next to McCoy. The black ink flowing all over his skin was slowly starting to retreat down his neck. He was breathing hard, looking a little confused, like he wasn't quite sure where he was.

He turned to look at the rest of the stadium. I followed his gaze. The vampires were almost all dead. The einherjar were walking among the bodies, occasionally putting bullets into heads. Fix, covered in bandages and strips of cloth and more than a little gore, was kneeling next to Elaine, helping her up. Her leg was in a splint and wrapped tightly, the light jacket she'd been wearing now serving a new purpose. There were dozens of vampire corpses near them. I watched her toss away a broken wand. Gard stood over them, eying the carnage and murmuring to herself.

Elaine got to her feet – well, foot – and they started hobbling towards me.

I turned to see the Alphas, human again and all alive, though bloodied. Will was a mess, but still standing. Georgia was in his arms. They were holding each other tight. I had a feeling most of the blood on them wasn't their own.

A little further to the left, Lara was sitting on the ground, next to Thomas, not looking at him. She was staring at the Red King's body, just beside us. Mouse sat at a respectful distance, watching her.

I don't remember making the choice to walk closer, more like I kind of started falling in that direction and Murph made sure my legs went with me. McCoy followed us. I was light-headed, probably due to blood loss. It didn't seem important.

When I reached Thomas, I looked down at him, but couldn't get a clear picture. It was blurry. I shrugged out of my duster, which hurt like hell on my right arm. Kneeling, I laid it over my brother, athame and all. I couldn't bring myself to pull it out, and to Hell with Mab if she wanted it back. The knife was in so deep and at such a sharp angle, it hardly made a wrinkle in the coat.

Will, Sanya, Elaine and Fix joined us.

Elaine's hand found my shoulder. "Mother of all, Harry. I have no words. I'm so sorry."

Will shook his head. "Are you sure he's - ?"

"Anything immortal – demons, gods, vampires, all – die when pierced by that blade," I said. "The Red King would have known that. He did know that." And all at once, I wanted to kill him again.

I looked up at Lara. She was gazing at Thomas' body, then looking away, then back. Her eyes were flecked with silver, but there were no tears. "Can you feel for me, wizard?"

"What?"

"I feel nothing."

"Nothing at all?"

"Oh, there's rage, and insult, and anger and hatred. But loss? Fear?" She shook her head. "Love? There's nothing. And yet, I was closer to him than any of my other siblings." She looked at me. "I've always known I was a monster. I've even said those very words to you." She looked down again. "But until today, I didn't realise that I was…" With that thought unfinished, she stood up and walked away. She was still nude, but I didn't watch her go. I felt no desire. I felt only loss.

McCoy hunkered down beside me. The lines and blotches of black ink were retreating more quickly now. "I never… Stars and stones, boy, I never told him. Never told him that I'm his… was his grandfather."

There was a muffled sound from under my coat. "I know. Harry told me."

I fell back from the voice, and McCoy jumped straight up. "Thomas?"

McCoy grabbed my coat and cast it aside. My brother's eyes slowly peeled open. "Hell's bells!" Ebenezar was breathless.

Thomas' eyes found mine. "I… feel… terrible." He looked down at the old knife, and his eyebrows lifted. "Empty night, no wonder I can't breathe."

Before I could crawl forward, Lara was at his side. "Thomas?" She wasn't smiling; she looked confused. "How?" Her eyes narrowed. "What… something's different."

Will took a deep breath through his nose. "He smells different. More…" He shrugged. "Fragrant."

Mouse a few steps forward, carefully not touching Lara. He sniffed Thomas, then his tail started wagging fast enough to move his backside. He licked my brother on the cheek. "Ah, gross," Thomas said. On a hunch - a ridiculous, desperate hunch - I reached forward and gripped the athame, then quickly pulled it out. Thomas jerked. "Hey, that tickles." There was no blood. His shirt was sliced nicely, but his skin was whole. I looked at his eyes again.

After a fight like we'd just been through, after the amount of effort he had just exerted, despite the feeding he and Lara had indulged in, he should have been hungry, his demon close to the surface, and his eyes tinged with silver.

They were perfectly grey-brown.

Perfectly human.

And he had crow's feet.

"Thomas," I said, hardly daring to believe it, hardly daring to think it, "your demon. Your Hunger. Can you feel it? Can you tap into it?"

He looked at me like I was an idiot – a look I'm familiar with. His focus went to the middle distance. Then his eyes crinkled. Then his mouth fell open. I found myself smiling. "It's gone," he whispered. "It's gone!"

I started to laugh.

"Harry, what happened?"

I laughed all the while I said, "It's dead!" I held up the knife. "The Red King killed it! You collapsed because you were using it, and it was keeping you going!"

McCoy dropped to his knees beside me, clamped a still-dark hand on each of our shoulders. "I'll be damned. I still got both of you."

I didn't know what to do. The exhaustion, the fear, the anger and the joy all smooshed into each other and turned into the funniest thing I'd ever experienced. I leaned forward and gripped Thomas in a fierce hug, pushing Mouse and Lara away. I was still laughing.

Thomas hitched once, twice, then he was laughing, too. His arms got around me, held me tight, then we were both outright cackling in each other's ears. I'm pretty sure we were both crying, too, but it may have just been me. McCoy joined the hug, and damned if Lara didn't get a hand on Thomas, too. My brother was alive and safe. My ribs hurt like nobody's business, but I didn't care.

A few minutes later, Thomas and McCoy were speaking near home plate while the rest of us gave them some space. I found myself on the home team dugout stairs with Mouse, who was resting his head on my lap, and Elaine. Using an energy-movement technique she had perfected over the last few years, she'd dulled the pains in her leg and my ribs. I'd pulled my duster back on, minus the right sleeve. My bag, that sack containing almost all of my worldly possessions, was at my feet. It had slid into the dugout during the fight.

Fix, Sanya and Karrin were speaking a little ways away with Gard, who kept looking at her mercenaries like a protective mother.

Lara had wandered over to the Red King and Lords of Outer Night's corpses. I don't know if she was looting, but she seemed very interested in rummaging through their clothes; she'd even put one of their robes on.

"How long have you known?" I asked.

She shrugged. "A week or two, I guess. I think I figured it out right after you moved into her house, or maybe even when she was giving me her blessing while we were driving to rescue those White Court kids. I should have understood then, but I had some Harry-shaped blinders on."

"Yeah, I do have that effect on people."

"But that kiss right before you went after Cowl confirmed it." I winced. "Don't feel bad. I've always known you better than you knew yourself. Apparently, better than I knew myself. I miss you, Harry. But… I think it's time for the past to be the past."

I nodded. "I think you might be right."

"I do love you," she said.

"I love you, too. I'm just not…"

"In love with me?"

"Yeah. Fine but important distinction."

She snuck her nose in the air in feigned haughtiness. "Well, that's fine. I can go back to dating. Playing the field. I understand Carlos is looking for a girlfriend."

"Oh, jeez." I put my head in my hand and we both laughed. When I pulled it back up, the Knights were approaching. "Oh, no rest for the weary, I fear." I patted Mouse, who stood, then got up myself.

"Harry," Karrin said.

"Heading out?"

"Yes."

"Well, let's get going."

She looked at me skeptically. "Are you feeling up to it?"

I pulled the old athame from its sheath, spun it around a finger and slid it back in. I looked at Fix. "I'm not leaving a friend in the lurch. Especially when he's just risked everything to help us."

She smiled and nodded. "Figured. Gard's agreed to bring the mercs."

Fix added, "We'll need all the firepower we can get."

"Da," Sanya added, "is why I bring I bring extra bullets."

"Wizard!" I looked up at the sound of Lara's voice. She ran up to us, inhumanly quick. She had her hand out, palm up. "Why does this look familiar?"

She was holding a small, smooth black stone. I stared. McCoy and Thomas joined us. "Still kicking up a fuss, Lara?" Thomas asked.

"Exploring a hunch," she said.

"What the hell is that?" my grandfather asked.

I picked it up. There was a slight vibration of power as I touched it. "It's a calling stone," I said. "Where did you get this?" I asked.

"One of the Lords' robes. Our enemies have been well coordinated, too well to be relying on messengers."

"It's just like ours," I said to McCoy.

"The technique's been around for centuries. I learned how to make them from the Wardens decades ago," he said, taking it. He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating. "Yeah, it's just like ours. Exactly like ours. Same basic energy signature." He opened his eyes. "Only the Wardens make them like this."

"Wardens," I said. "Or Senior Council."

He gave me a worried look but said nothing.

"We know, from Mab's own lips, that there were three traitors on the White Council. I never got to ask her if that included Peabody and Cristos, but it means there's at least one more."

"You think it's Mai or Langtry?"

"I think they've both had plenty of reason and opportunity to make our lives difficult. Or short. And I think that even after Peabody, someone was feeding our enemies information. It couldn't have been all Cristos."

He ground his teeth together. "Son of a bitch. If you're heading after Summer, I'm coming. The sooner this is done, the sooner we get answers."

"Damn right," Thomas said.

We all just kind of stopped. Everybody looked at him, then at each other. "Absolutely not," Lara said.

"What? Why?" Thomas asked. "Because I'm suddenly so powerless?"

"Thomas, I thought I'd lost you for good not ten minutes ago. I'm not risking that again."

"But I - "

"And I just met you, really," McCoy said. "I don't want to risk it, either."

Thomas looked at me. "Harry, come on."

"I don't want to risk losing you, either," I said. He rolled his eyes. "Which is why you should come."

"What!" Lara and McCoy both tried to shout at the same time, and it came out in a weird stereo effect.

"All I'm saying is that if we don't stop Summer, we all still die. Can either of you argue with that?" They could not. "Then personally, I'd rather have him close, regardless of what happens."

He gave me a nod. I owe you one.

I gave one back. No problem.

"Ah hell, let's get out of here," McCoy said. "We've got a Faerie Queen's ass to kick."

There wasn't any cheering, but everyone nodded and started moving out; Fix was first in line. After a moment, I found myself at the back of the line with Karrin. "So," I said. "Uh, something was recently brought to my attention."

"Yeah. Fix mentioned something about that." We shared an awkward smile, then a laugh. That helped to break the tension.

So, here was the moment, so many years and distractions in coming. With both feet, then. "Murph - Karrin. I - "

As you might imagine, that's when the earthquake - the last earthquake, as far as I know - hit. The ground started shaking violently, and Karrin and I were tossed apart. I almost ended up back in the dugout. 60 feet away, in the shallow outfield, I saw the others shaking and falling, too. Even Mouse was flat on his belly. I got up to my hands and knees.

"Karrin!"

"I'm okay! Just wait it out!"

The shaking continued, though. I heard metal protesting, masonry falling. And over that, a higher sound, almost like… bees buzzing? I twisted my neck to look up, and saw the swarm. It was not bees.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me! I hate sylphs!"

Over the top edge of the stadium's wall, a flight of air faeries, each one looking like a woman with wings, came flooding in. They were heralds and messengers of the Summer Court, usually. But lately, they had been serving as foot soldiers. I wasn't able to get up with all the shaking, but I tried. If Summer had sent troops, the battle wasn't over.

With the buzzing ever louder, I finally managed to get my feet under me, knees bent deeply and one hand still kind of on the ground. I looked up as I reached for the athame.

The last thing I saw was a sylph with very sharp teeth and a crooked, broken-looking nose punching me in the face.

When I came to, I was hurting. The steady pounding I could hear didn't help. I was on something hard and uneven. The air had the uncomfortable feel of a warm night after a humid day. When my eyes finally opened, I was looking up at a cloudy night. My hand came up to my face; I touched my poor nose and winced. I also felt dried blood on my face. That couldn't be good.

Stars and stones. So much broken or destroyed lately; my house, car, staff, blasting rod, ribs, duster, soul and now my nose. I was turning out to be one broken wizard.

The pounding continued. I groaned. "Harry?" The voice was a whisper. I turned my head slowly to the side. Several large stones, many standing, some not, came into view. It wasn't quite Stonehenge, but that was the first thing that came to mind. I was lying on another such slab, though mine was covered in carvings that I was too close to see clearly. "Harry?" Another insistent whisper.

I lifted my head a little. Just past the edge of the slab, I saw a man's head. A familiar man. "Father Forthill?" I asked. Then I corrected myself. "Edimon?"

The old Sidhe, who had for so long pretended to be human, so convincingly that he'd damn near become one, smiled up at me. "Can you move?" he asked.

I wasn't sure. So I tried. My legs responded, so I tried rolling closer to him. He was sitting on the ground, which consisted mostly of yellowing grass. His arms were secured behind his back, as were his ankles. "What the hell?"

"Can you help us?" he asked.

Us? I looked a little further to the left. The Summer Lady, pure white hair disheveled, bright green dress covered in mud, was similarly restrained. "Lily." I finished waking up. The pains in my ribs and face started getting louder. The pounding noise continued. I pushed myself up to a sitting position, legs hanging off the slab, and fought down some nausea.

"Harry? The Queen, she's gone crazy!"

"Yeah, I heard. Fix caught up to me." I heaved my legs over the edge of the stone slab. The carvings on the slab caught my eye, and I realized where I was. "The Stone Table?"

The Father nodded.

"How long have I been here?"

"Just a few minutes. The sylphs dropped you."

"Harry, please hurry," Lily said. "The Queen will come back soon."

I wobbled up to my feet. "What is that pounding?"

"Titania and Mab," she said. "They're fighting each other."

I turned in the direction of the noise. There was a light show going on, a massive colouring of green or red, blue or gold, each in time with the sound of impact. I turned back, and reached for the athame. Damned if it wasn't still there. I could now see that the restraints were handcuffs, further chained to stone hoops embedded in the ground. Well, the old knife had worked on the seatbelt in Tilly's car, but would it cut metal? "I can't believe they didn't take this away from me."

I moved to kneel beside the Father, but he gestured with his head. "Lily first. She has to get away."

I nodded and took three extra steps. "Been a while," I said, kneeling down. I started trying to cut the chain between the cuffs. "Fix said you were taken a couple days ago."

Lily shook her head. "More like weeks."

"That doesn't make any sense." The chain was giving fairly quickly. "Fix only came to me yesterday."

"Time dilation. Titania accelerated time inside Chicago."

"Chicago isn't her domain – oh, right, the Transit." I shook the remaining fog out of my head. "Fix said time was moving differently."

She nodded. "With the help of the Circle, she could treat Chicago as an extension of Faerie."

"Spectacular." I was almost through the chain. "Just out of curiosity, what is the date?"

"December 21." The chain snapped. "The Northern Winter Equinox." She pulled her wrists apart, and I started in on the chain at her ankles. The knife moved through more quickly now, like it had learned from the material around her wrists.

"Seriously? It's been that long?"

"Well, the actual, precise time is a few minutes off, yet."

"That's why you have to get her out of here," the father said. "Given the chance, the Queen – or the Walker that controls her – will try to kill Lily."

"And if she does it after Winter takes control of the Stone Table, we have the same problem we had with – uh, the same problem we almost had a few years ago."

"Exactly. And don't feel awkward, harry; I loved Aurora, but she would have brought about the slow end of humanity and Earth itself." For no reason I could tell, his head snapped up. "Oh, no."

The chain snapped. "Okay, let's get you out of here, too, Father."

"There's no time!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Harry, listen!"

I did. The pounding noise had stopped. "Oh, hell's bells!" I grabbed Lily's hand and turned to run, in the direction opposite where the lightshow had been coming from. We got five steps. I ran face-first into a shield between two of the huge stone monoliths. It hurt. "Ow! Son of a bitch!" My nose started bleeding and it and my ribs started hurting all over again. I pulled a loose strip of fabric from my tattered sleeve to stop up my nose.

Lily put her hand against the invisible barrier. "I can't…". She trailed off and got look of realization on her face. "Harry, she's here." We both slowly turned around.

The Summer Queen was there, standing atop the Stone Table. She had arrived with no fanfare, no disturbance, no freaking noise at all. For a moment, it was all I could do to just stay standing in her presence; she was terribly beautiful.

Her hair was the colour of the Sun itself, yellow-orange and pointing in every direction. Her skin was the deep tan of a farmer. She was tall and regal, shoulders square, limbs long.

She wore a dress that looked like it was woven of stalks of grain and flower stems, edged with white lace. It was mostly covered in a set of plate mail, each piece intricately carved and emblazoned with runes and images of flora and fauna. It looked like steel, but wasn't. It was also covered in dents and scratches, and more than a few holes.

Her boots covered her knees, and they, too, bore the signs of recent battle. But it was her face that concerned me the most.

She looked a lot like Aurora, of course. But she also had no eyes. It looked like they had been roughly carved right out of her skull, though the rest of her face was untouched save for lines of blood or something running from the sockets. "Harry," the Queen said. "So good of you to finally join us." The voice came out gruff and low; dare I say, masculine? And with a rather pronounced Oxford accent. I had a feeling it wasn't her proper voice.

"Run while you can!" the Father shouted. "The athame should break the barrier!"

The Queen was down and crouching behind the Father before I could blink. She had no problem moving around with no eyes, I guess. I was about to take a step in front of Lily - part of that hindbrain default setting I have - when Lily stepped in front of me protectively. I was momentarily confused and insulted, but then I remembered she was a hell of a lot more powerful than I was on a good day, and I was on my last legs. Again.

The Queen put a knife to Forthill's - I still had trouble thinking of him as anything but human - throat. "Flee and he dies," she said. Her tone was matter-of-fact. She fixed us with those empty sockets, blood of a kind dripping down her cheeks. "Either of you."

"You don't need the wizard," Lily said. Again, my protective streak - some would call it chauvinism - took a blow. It was a strange dichotomy; this girl - this woman - was scarcely bigger than Murphy, and I'd never seen her fight, but had to put my life in her hands.

Was this what it was like for people meeting me for the first time?

"On the contrary," Titania said. "His presence is necessary."

"It's okay, Lily. If she wants my help with anything, she won't hurt him."

The thing that had once been a Faerie Queen grunted. "DuMorne did enjoy breaking the headstrong. Almost a pity he hadn't the chance with you. It would have made quite the show."

"What do you know about DuMorne?" I asked.

She smiled. "The night you drove me Out was not the first time he and I had dealings." She yanked on the Father, pulling him to a standing position. He grunted in pain as the steel cuffs bit into his flesh, but the chain linking his wrists to his ankles snapped. "You see, he was silent." She smiled, and her teeth appeared to be rotting out of her head. "For that reason, I liked him."

"Silent?" Lash's words came back to me: The sounds of mortal minds... hurts them somehow. "His mind didn't... make noise?"

"Not to them," she said in a different voice. An angry one?

Her real one. Maybe I could work with that.

She shook her head and continued as before. "The din that you and all your kind produce was absent in him. It made him singularly interesting to all of the Outside. And, we thought, singularly useful. He could, with our guidance, find those like you."

"Like me?" I found myself making fists and dipping my head, like I wanted to charge into a fight. "You mean the ones who can hurt you."

"Quite. Once we knew where you all were, we could eliminate you."

"Knocking off the only people who could hold you back? The only ones who could kill you? Smart, I'd say, except that if you hadn't done anything, I never would have known."

"One of you would have. The Reach would have seen to it."

"The Reach? You mean Demonreach?"

"It was always looking for you. Always needed to have champions at the ready should the rest of us ever try to come after it."

"I don't understand."

"Of course not."

"It's been protecting us, Harry," Lily said. "Isn't that right, Your Highness?" I heard the disrespect in her tone and silently approved.

"Ever was it an enemy of its fellows. It enjoyed the noise the rest of us so abhorred. When we found DuMorne, we recognized our chance, to destroy the Reach and all mortals. We could finally have peace." Things started to fall into place in my over-stressed mind.

"This was all to destroy the island? Because it always had a few humans it could work through to stop you." I shook my head, still confused. "Then why Chicago? Why the Circle?"

The Outsider laughed with the Sidhe's mouth. "The Circle consisted of the most powerful hunters and destroyers we could influence; we had been seeking them for centuries, whenever we were able to gain access. With DuMorne gone, we needed them more than ever. The promise of power, over both creation and destruction, was enough for each of them. There was one who needed no convincing, of course, who provided us with the means to contain you." I gulped at that.

"We needed the others to hunt down the rest of you. The Reach itself was immobile, of course. Why else would it need champions? Just recently, the Circle managed to bring you all together. Dozens of potential champions, subtly manipulated and guided to Chicago over the years... and now there are only two of you left. And the Circle themselves; you've taken care of them nicely. Together they might have stood against us. But that problem is now moot."

"The last few years... The last few millennia. All the death and destruction, all the manipulation… It was just step one." I felt my teeth grinding together. "Lash was right. You don't need us. You actually want to destroy us. To destroy everything."

"And we shall finally do so, just as soon as the other champion arrives."

"Elaine? She doesn't know where we are."

"Oh, dear mortal, do you truly believe that will stop her?" She laughed and I scowled. "She will chase you down through those rings about your neck."

I didn't know what to say.

Lily didn't have that problem. "Monster! Release her!" You may have heard of the 'halo effect'; humans in general are more willing to listen to or follow certain people simply because those people are beautiful. Of course, in regular humans the glowing effect of a halo isn't literal, but for a second there, I would have followed Lily to the ends of the Earth.

Titania's face turned to her, slowly. "Or what?"

Lily's lip pulled away from her teeth. "Or I will drive you Out!" In her hands, fire and water seemed to coalesce.

"Be careful, child," Titania said in her own voice again. She was hiding inside her own body. Her Own mind. Behind the Queen, the pounding noises began again. Her voice switched back with hardly any notice. Lily and I exchanged a look, then I made eye contact with the Father. He'd heard it too, and knew what it meant. "Hmm. It would seem Mab has regained her balance. Very well, young Changling. Do your worst."

"Lily, no!" the Father shouted. He struggled against Titania's grip in vain. "I've lost one daughter to this beast, don't throw yourself away; run!"

"Never!" the Lady said. "Release him!"

"Lily!" I stepped forward again. "If she kills you, she gets the Summer Lady's mantle back. She could resurrect Aurora. Or if this really is the equinox and she feeds the power into Winter, she could throw the Courts out of balance and the world into chaos." I nodded like a fencer acknowledging a touch. "Long-term back-up plan?"

The Queen's grin was fierce, and I swear some of her teeth were pointed, now. "We have waited an eternity. 'Long-term' does not even begin to explain our plans." She turned her face towards one of the standing stone monoliths.

Head hanging in shame, Anastacia Luccio stepped out from behind it.

I actually stopped thinking for a moment. My brain was simply paralyzed in shock. Then confusion set in; what was she doing here?

Slowly, I figured it out. "You... Ana..."

"Harry, I'm sorry. But... Is it true? Are the Circle members wiped out? Are they all dead?"

My voice was hardly a whisper. "You sold us out to the vampires?"

She nodded slowly.

"How... How could..."

"My sister's descendants." She finally lifted her head. Her eyes were red over dark circles. "My family."

I closed my eyes. Most wizards live for centuries if they lead lives less interesting than mine. In that time, they watch a lot of people die. Most of them lose all of their family. Distant descendants are all most of them end up with.

One of the reasons wizards are loathe to speak of or even reveal their families to others is the leverage those others would gain from that knowledge. The threat to one's family - especially those who are not wizards or even aware of the supernatural - is enormous.

"Please tell me you understand, Harry."

"I..." I wanted to hate her. I wanted to scream.

"Would you have done any less for your family?"

I'd damn near lost my mind on the Red King. But betray humanity? "No. No, I could never sell out dozens - hundreds! - of people to those monsters."

"Not even for your brother? Your grandfather?" At that point, it didn't even surprise me that she knew I had a grandfather. She'd obviously known more than she'd let on for years. "What if you had a child, Harry? Or a niece or nephew?" She stepped forward. "What about your parents?"

I suddenly found it hard to breathe. What if my parents had been threatened? The answer was instantly obvious; I would do anything to protect them, just like they would do for me. Just as any parent worth their salt would do, just like I would do if I had a child. She'd had no choice.

But that didn't make it right.

Did it?

The Summer Queen and the thing inside her laughed at us. "Morality. So foreign. Yet so amusing."

"Yeah, it's the Monty Python of human attributes," I said, finally finding a target for my anger. I stomped forward. "You manipulative son of a bitch! You push her into an impossible decision for amusement? For the sheer fun of it?"

"Harry!" I barely heard Lily.

"We needed the power over wizards of course. But I also wanted to know how one such as you would react. It is remarkable how you avoid blaming her."

"He's a manipulator, Harry!" the Father said. "Don't listen!" He was choked off by the Outsider's grip.

"I know, Father." I stomped forward, athame in hand. I know the Queen's eyes were missing, but I also know she looked at the old knife, just from the way her nose moved around. "He's a controller and a destroyer." I got to within a few feet of them, then held the athame up and pointed it right the Queen's throat. "But I also know he's possessing one of the most powerful beings of the Inside." I grinned as her face twitched. "And I bet she's pissed."

The Queen of Summer screamed in two voices. One was high and beautiful, though pained. The other was low and rough, angry. She shoved the Father at me, and I caught him in my off hand. Lily jumped past me and got her hands on Titania's wrists while the Queen kept screaming and dropped her knife. Both of them called Summer Fire to their hands, and the smell of burning flesh took no time at all to reach me.

Breathing through my mouth, I eased the Father down and touched the athame to his bonds; it slid through quickly. We both watched as Lily twisted the Queen to her knees. "Help her, Harry, please!" He pulled himself to his feet, but looked unsteady. At the same time, Legion, or He Who Walks Behind - not Titania, she wasn't in control - got a hand under Lily, lifting off her feet and tossing her on to the Stone Table with a cry. Lily' dress caught fire.

Then the Queen scratched at her own face. Guess I know how she lost her eyes.

"I got it!" I jumped up and hefted the athame one more time. "Not so fast, you body-snatching son of a bitch!" I took a jab at her back, but she moved like a ripple of wind through a grain field and dodged me. I've never felt so clumsy.

"So arrogant," the Outsider said. She raked a hand at me. I tried to dodge, but it was embarrassing next to her speed. My duster took most of it, but on top of all the damage it had already taken, it never stood a chance. I felt the enchantments snap and give out even as long strips of leather fell away. She pointed a finger at me and I went flying backwards. I was airborne for about three whole seconds before I hit one of the stone monoliths and stuck to it, pinned in place. I didn't get a concussion, so score one for learning from your mistakes. The remains of my coat bunched up behind me uncomfortably.

"My Queen," the Father said. His voice was pleading. "I know you're in there. I know you can stop it! Titania, please!"

The Summer Queen's head turned to the old Sidhe. "Fool," she said. A gesture sent him tumbling back.

Then the ground itself opened up and tried to swallow her. The grass and mud of the vale turned to liquid and began to run up her legs and pull her down. Behind her, Lily, naked save for cuts, bruises and burns was kneeling on the Table, arms pointed at the ground. "You cannot fight forever! Release her!"

But the composite Queen just laughed. "Child." She turned and moved her legs as though she were stepping out of a puddle rather than two feet of soil and stone. She lifted a hand and sent a ball of golden light flying at the Summer Lady.

Lily wasn't stupid. She prepared a greenish ball of energy herself, and the two impacted in the air just a few feet away from her face. Lily tumbled backwards off the table.

"Harry!" The sound was a hiss. I turned my head towards it. Ana was crouched beside my monolith. "Harry, is it true? Is the Circle gone?"

I still didn't know how to feel about her actions, but at least she was human. "Yes," I said. "All three flavours of vampire, Cowl, and a few demon buddies for seasoning. Titania's all that's left."

She nodded. "Hand me the athame. I can cut through the barrier."

That was almost crazy enough to work. I hesitated, still not sure I could trust her, but hell, it was that or die pinned to a wall. I let go of the blade, and watched it drop. Ana caught it in one hand, turned to the barrier, and froze. Simultaneously, I felt the power holding me in place weaken. I looked back at the Queen, who was facing - I couldn't say 'looking' - in our direction. "No," the Outsider said. As I watched, Ana jerked and turned around. Her face was set in rage and effort. "I'll take that, mortal."

"No," Ana whispered, but seemed to be all the fight she had in her. She started moving towards the Queen in jerky, stiff movements.

"Let her go," I shouted. "I thought I was the one you needed."

"You are. But this tool is singularly dangerous and useful. I will have it."

"Never!" Say what you will about Lily, she had a lot of moxie. She tackled the Walker from behind, coming out of nowhere. This finally broke the Outsider's concentration, and I dropped to the ground. I managed to keep my feet, and threw off my useless duster. I was going to miss it, but had other things to worry about. Luccio looked at me. "Sever the barrier!" I said. She glanced at the knife, then before I could stop her, she charged forward, right at the embodiments of Summer, screaming. "Ana, no!" I ran after her as she headed for the tussle.

I thought, for one wild second when Titania's back was to us, that she just might end it all right then and there. Instead, a quick rippling movement followed by an even quicker backhand knocked Ana into me. The athame flew away.

I followed its flight path, up over a corner of the Stone Table, then back down at the Father's feet. He picked it up quickly.

The Outsider threw Lily into the air, too, ducked and grabbed the knife she'd dropped a minute ago, then stopped, facing at the being who had once been her Court Fool. All the while, the pounding sound on the barrier continued. Lily came down on the Table again and stopped trying to get up. The Father checked that she was still breathing, then took of his suit jacket and covered her with it. "My Queen," the former priest said. His voice was shaky, his eyes pleading, his clothes damaged. But when he lifted the old knife, his hands were steady. "My love," he said. "You have to fight it. You must drive it out!"

For a second or three, her face contorted in agony and her real voice came through. "I cannot! It is so strong. So entwined. I cannot tell where it ends and I begin!"

She jerked to the side, growling. "Nor will you ever!" she growled at herself and scratched long lines down her face with her singed arms.

The old Father nodded to himself, eyes clouding up but never leaving the Queen's face. "I feared as much."

"This vessel is mine!"

"No," he said, quietly, and firmly. "It belongs to she who the Sun worships."

Then the old Sidhe launched himself at her, moving so fast that I actually lost track of him for a second. He slashed and jabbed and parried like an Olympic champion's wet dream. Ana and I tried to crawl backwards, but I was partially frozen in shock. I'd heard of fighting monks, but fighting priests was new. Titania fought back, but it was painfully obvious, even to my eyes, that she never stood a chance. Edimon had been the Court Fool, but he was brilliant.

The display of grace and power would only be cheapened if I tried to put it into words. But much like everything about the Sidhe, it was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. The two knives struck each other so quickly that a single chime was raised in the air, a ringing note that sounded like every sword fight and none of them. It was beautiful and painful.

Eventually, though, the Father pushed her back, and I saw an opportunity to help, thanks to a rough go in high school. The Outsider took a step back, and I rolled my body into position behind her heels. The Father took one more swing, and she tripped over me.

He stepped over me and had the athame to her throat before she finished falling. And he hesitated. I didn't move. I didn't breathe.

"Do it," Titania - and it was the Queen's voice - said. She wasn't just asking - she was begging. "End it!"

"I..." The Father held the blade steady, but he didn't use it. "I can't," he said. His voice was a harsh whisper.

"It will not stop. I can't - " she gasped, her voice hitching. Then it changed. "Weak. We will devour you all!"

Her arms snapped up and grabbed his, fire erupting and burning away his shirt, his skin, his flesh. He cried out as she pulled herself back to her feet.

I lifted a hand and shouted, "Forzare!" Though it granted me a splitting headache, the spell did its work, and drove a wedge between them. The Father fell back, his arms at his sides, the old athame planted blade up in the dirt, still in his much weaker grip. The Queen didn't fall, but seemed to come back to herself again.

She looked at the old priest, and even though her eyes were gone, she did look at him. She actually saw him. Maybe she saw him clearly for the first time in centuries.

Maybe for the first time ever. "My love," she whispered. "It will not hurt you again."

He managed to move his head and whisper, "No, please," before she let herself fall forward. She landed right on the blade, heart first, and rolled to the side. The barrier vanished. I know because that damn pounding noise finally stopped.

From between two stone monoliths, one solid and one broken, I saw a tall dark figure appear. It took a second to recognize. "Rashid?"

"Wizard Dresden. You have survived," the Gatekeeper said. He sounded relieved as he helped me up. For once, his hood was down, fully exposing his scarred face and artificial eye.

I didn't bother to ask how he got there or why or anything like that. He'd probably been here, waiting for this moment, since the Wardens had been ambushed by the vampires - "Ana!" I snapped back to full awareness and looked around. The Captain was nowhere to be seen.

There was a rush of air above us, and a shadow dropped from the sky, landing like a boulder, shaking the ground. "Where is my enemy?" Mab demanded. Her voice was rough but firm, and she was clad in fantastically ornate armour.

I gestured. "The Queen of Summer is dead," I said.

She hardly spared a glance for the body of Titania and the weeping man beside her. "I know that, you fool. Where is the Outsider?"

"Here!" came the shrieked answer. And Lily threw herself at the Winter Queen.


	22. Chapter 22

The clash of energy was deafening. Like, literally, I went deaf for several seconds. The Gatekeeper threw up a shield over both of us and the Father. I didn't go blind, too, but both Queens suddenly seemed to be made of light, so it felt like I had.

Now, Mab is no slouch when it comes to defending herself or what is hers, but as the nearest scion of Summer, Lily had instantly inherited the Queen's mantle when Titania died. Combined with the power of the Lady, plus the Outsider that had obviously hitched a ride with the mantle, she was an embodiment of far more raw power than Mab.

And the Winter Queen still held her own.

Words largely fail me. Trying to tell you what happened would limit it, as words always do, and failed to do it justice. I can best describe it this way; fire can melt ice, but the ice then becomes water, which extinguishes the fire. In that way, the balance is maintained, between energy, life, opposing forces, everything. That's what happened between the Queens on that hillside. And it went on for a _long _time.

Blow for blow, dodge for dodge, each trick and scream and bit of magic, they were evenly matched. Every time they made contact, there was a small explosion; matter meeting antimatter, seelie meeting unseelie. I dragged the Father away from the confrontation as best I could, the Gatekeeper keeping a shield up behind us. We stopped behind two stone pillars, both cracked and worn down. A glance told me why Mab had not approached from this side; less than two feet away, there was a sheer drop into nothing. Literally, nothing.

I propped the Father up against one of the pillars. He was still weeping. "Now what?" I asked. I had to shout to be heard.

"We wait," Rashid said.

"For what?" I poked my head around the pillar. As I watched, Mab backhanded Lily into one of the broken pillars. It cracked, but the new Summer Queen hardly seemed to notice it. "Wow."

"Mab has not always been a friend of the Council, Wizard Dresden, but ever has she preserved the balance and protected the Fae and mortal realms from threats."

"You mean threats other than herself?"

He just smiled.

"There are an infinite number of threats about which you know nothing, my godson," a voice said over my shoulder. I managed not to jump, but that was mostly due to fatigue. I turned around to see Lea standing almost right at my shoulder, dressed in armour not unlike Mab's, though a touch less fancy.

And she still had that mad, manic look in her eye. She was literally standing on the edge – an inch to the side, and she would fall over the cliff. The metaphor was too obvious to mention.

"Case in point," I muttered. "Where's Maeve?"

"The Lady was injured. She will follow when she is able."

I thumbed at the clash of Queens. "Will you help her?"

"No, I am forbidden." She looked unhappy about it, too. "Her goal is not to kill the vessel which the Outsider possesses, but to weaken it, thence drive it Out."

"How is she going to do that?"

Lea shrugged. "My Queen spoke only of using mortal instruments to deal with the demon."

I shook my head. "The only mortals I know of that can really drive a demon this powerful out of its host would be - " I stopped and turned to The Gatekeeper.

The sly old bastard was smiling. "Just had to wait for the right moment," he said. Then, with a slash of his hand, he opened a Way. I couldn't quite see through the portal from where I was standing, but I saw him make a beckoning gesture. A second later, Elaine stepped through, limping. The right leg of her jeans was gone up to the knee, replaced with a thick bandage, covered in runic symbols that looked a bit like Gard's life rune.

When she looked around and saw me, we both smiled. "Good timing," she said to the Gatekeeper. "We were just about to leave the island."

Before I could ask what she meant, Fix poked his head into this world. "I was right!" he said, and stepped through. "You're here."

Then the old steel of a katana blade emerged from the hole in reality, and was quickly followed by Murphy. She looked relieved, no doubt a reflection of my own expression, and grabbed me in a one-armed hug. My heart caught in my chest. We still had a lot to talk about, but it would have to wait a little longer. Elaine pointedly looked at everything but us.

Then Sanya appeared with his ancient sabre and a big smile. "Hmm. Never been here, before," he said.

I smiled. "Alright! Now we can - "

A glint of light caught my eye; another Sword was emerging from the Gatekeeper's portal. _Amoracchius_. Watching it come through the hole in reality only took about two seconds, but it felt like forever; who the hell had been crazy enough to pick up that Sword?

I honestly shouldn't have been surprised when my brother stepped into the Nevernever. After all, he was related to me. "Thomas?"

"Hey, Harry." He took a couple of deep breaths, resting the big blade on his shoulder. He looked tired. He looked nervous. He looked _human_.

"You picked it up?"

He shrugged. "It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time." He shook his head, and I noticed that his hair didn't bounce and flow as it normally did. Or should I say, as it used to. "This thing's a lot heavier than Michael made it look."

"Michael makes lots of difficult things look easy," I said, stepping close and clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Like driving out demons."

"What?"

"Take look at the lightshow!"

He looked, along with the other Knights. After a particularly loud impact, he asked, "We're supposed to fight _that_?"

"Don't panic on us now, pretty-boy," Murphy said.

"_Da_," Sanya said. "Is not so bad. Have seen worse before now."

"I've seen worse this _month_," Fix said.

"I think I _lived _this a couple years ago," Elaine said.

Thomas just looked at them all. "They're made of light," he said slowly, "just in case you missed that little fact."

"Technically, you only have to fight one of them," I said.

"I thought Knights were braver than this," Elaine said.

"Don't you start," my brother said, sticking a finger at her. "I'm still new to this mortality thing. And even newer to the Knight thing."

"You get used to it," I said.

"Wait, is that Lily?" Fix asked. He was slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

"Afraid so," I said. "She'll be okay, man. Nobody wants to kill her, not even Mab."

"Is that Titania?" he asked, his voice going up several octaves.

"Yes," came the hoarse reply. We all looked down at the Father. "You have to save Lily. You have to drive that thing Out! Don't let it win!" He paused for a breath. Fix knelt down beside him. "Don't let her pain have been for nothing."

Sanya and Murphy looked at Thomas. "Oh, empty night," he cursed. He sighed and closed his eyes. After a moment, he looked again at Murph and Sanya, took a breath and nodded at them. All three hefted their Swords, which all began to glow with a beautiful, soft light. Then they turned to the fight, and charged forward. Fix, Elaine and I moved to follow, but the Gatekeeper stepped in front of us, hands raised. "Wait," was all he said.

"Excuse me?"

"If you charge in, any of you three, at least two of you will not survive and at least one of the great Swords will be lost. You _must _leave them be!"

I'd never heard the Gatekeeper so emphatic before, not to mention direct. I looked at the fray, where Mab had stepped back, reverted to a relatively normal, corporeal state. The Sword bearers had surrounded Lily, who also looked solid again. She was making weak gestures of attack, but they kept driving her back, and kept her at the centre of their circle. She was fighting angry, and she was fighting stupid, but she was also fighting without magic.

That was one of the true advantages of the Swords; they evened the playing field, stripping away the supernatural advantages the other side had. They didn't make the mortal bearer invincible, but they gave the mortal a _chance_. And often, I've found, that's all we need.

As it was, every time one of the blades touched her skin, she recoiled in pain, hissing. Fix had to look away, fists clenched.

"I'm not much for letting others fight my battles for me," I said.

"Same," Elaine said.

"Your role is not yet at an end," the Gatekeeper assured us. "But let them do what they must."

As you might imagine, letting go has never been one of my strengths. My jaw clenched and I made a pair of fists. "That's not much for me to go on."

"Harry." The voice was weak.

I looked down. "Father?"

"Harry," he said again, even more quietly. I knelt down. He managed to lift a severely mangled hand, and I took it. I had to struggle to hear what he said next. "Have faith," he said.

Well, after my speech to Cowl, what could I say to that?

"Good advice, my Knight."

I managed not to convulse at the sound of Mab's voice in my ear. Barely. I looked at her. She was in a state similar to how Titania had looked, with obvious damage to her armour and cuts and bruises and burns on her exposed skin. One of her legs was made of ice from the knee down, and that ice was cracked. On the other hand, she still had her eyes. Lea was standing silently at her elbow, head bowed. "My Queen." I hated saying it, and she heard it in my voice. She enjoyed hearing, too.

She turned to the Gatekeeper, with a smile. "Rashid. It has been entirely too long."

"Queen of Air and Darkness." He said it with what sounded like genuine respect. Go figure.

Elaine edged away to stand behind the Gatekeeper. Fix didn't move a muscle. I let Edimon's hand go and stood, giving the Sword bearers a quick look. All three were still moving, but Lily was still quick, and they were slowing down. The new Queen was covered in cuts. The Swords were covered in blood. She kept flinching back, then attacking again. "So what happens now?" I asked.

"I do not know," The Gatekeeper said.

"Nor do I," said Mab.

Elaine's surprise pushed her fear of Mab aside. "Seriously?" she asked.

"No idea at all?" I added.

"The future is clouded," Rashid said.

"That's not very helpful," Elaine said.

"It is in the hands of an Outsider and mortals," Mab said. "Little about Outsiders is known, and little about mortals is predictable." Her voice still had that rough edge to it. "Yourself being the rare and pleasant exception, my Knight." She took entirely too much pleasure in saying 'my Knight.'

Suppressing a shudder, I turned back to the fight. Thomas took a swing, missed, and would have been ripped to shreds if Sanya and Murph hadn't both pushed forward. I almost jumped in myself, but the Gatekeeper again restrained me. "Soon," he said, and his voice was tight.

"Try to relax, Harry," a new voice said. I turned again, and found myself looking at Iceman. The body was completely made of ice, same as Mab's leg, about a foot shorter than I was, and covered in a cloak. The head was slightly transparent, with an articulated jaw and eyes made of flickering orange fire. I could see the skull within.

"Bob?"

"In the flesh. Sort of."

"You know him?" Elaine asked, looking at me but pointing at my former lab assistant.

Ice Bob looked at her. "We've met before," he said. "But it's best not to dwell on that."

"Huh?"

He turned back to me. "One of the nice things about belonging to the Winter Queen now, Harry, is that I've learned patience."

"Surely that's not all you've learned?" Mab asked him.

"Not at all, My Queen!"

I was suddenly really, really uncomfortable. In a squicky way. I turned back to fight. Each of the Knights was slowing their attacks, now. And Lily… well, damned if Lily wasn't starting to slow, too. My stomach was still full of fear, but now a little speck of hope was mixed in with it.

Beside me, the Gatekeeper leaned forward, staring intently.

Lily cried out as Thomas got a quick cut across her arm, followed by Murph getting a slice on the back of her leg. Fix tensed beside me and it was my turn to put a hand on his arm.

Lily went down on one knee.

"Now!" Rashid said, and he all but pushed the three of us into the old stone circle. We needed little encouragement, and charged forward.

"Let her go!" Sanya was saying. "Release her!"

The thing inside Lily growled.

"Get out of her!" Thomas shouted.

"Give her back!" Fix yelled. He hadn't drawn his sword, but one of his hands was brushing its pommel. I had the athame in hand; it was the only weapon that might kill the Outsider and spare the girl it was hiding inside of. Under other circumstances I might have given it to Fix to use, but I couldn't make a gift of the old knife to a member of the Summer Court. Instead, I relied on my longer legs to get me there ahead of him.

And those very legs betrayed me. I don't know whether it was fatigue, some unevenness in the land, or a contrivance of Mab herself, but I tripped.

So I was the only one who didn't get knocked flat when the Walker _left_.

It saw us coming, Elaine and Fix and I, and it knew it was beaten. From my location on the ground, I saw between Fix and Elaine's legs as a partially transparent image of He Who Walks Behind - long arms, short legs and a distorted torso, a huge mouth and tiny eyes, all wrapped in ugly, scaly skin - jumped out of Lily's body, looking like a ghost. She collapsed instantly. With a great hiss-growl noise, the Walker threw out its arms.

And the Stone Table cracked, right down the middle.

There was a flash of light, and everyone else collapsed as it faded away to nothing. I felt a wave of fatigue wash over me, felt my breath pulled from me, and I blacked out.

I awoke to a feeling of uneasy dread, which got me slowly to my feet, slightly dizzy. A quick look around reminded me why I felt that way. "No," I heard myself say. I fell on my knees again beside Karrin, and quick, sharp pain ran through both my legs. A finger to her throat let me breathe again; she was alive. I checked Elaine and Thomas next. Everyone was breathing, if shallowly, but they were all down for the count. "Where did it go? And what did it do to them?" I looked up. "To the Table?"

"It is gone," Rashid said from behind me. "It created a form of psychic backlash. I have seen it before. They will be fine, but for now they will be treated to nightmares. As for the Table… well, it is not the first Table, in any case. The seasons this year may be… unpredictable."

I struggled to my feet and turned to him.

"Gone? Just like that?" I snapped my fingers.

"Gone," another voice said. Bob was at my elbow. "The unbalanced thing is gone, Harry." He tilted his head in uncertainty. "That's a good thing! I think?"

I didn't have the time or inclination to spar with Bob on morality. "After everything it did? It's just gone?" I looked around at the devastation, at my friends – at_ my family!_ – and rejected the idea of the Walker simply escaping. My head started shaking itself. "No. No! It does _not _end like this! It can't!" I was stomping around like a two year old in a tantrum, and I didn't even know why. It was gone. The Walker was gone, the thing that wanted to end us all, the damnable monster that had haunted me for almost my entire life, had _gone_. We were out of danger.

But that was _not _good enough.

"It can't hurt anyone anymore," Rashid said.

"It planned this for centuries. It'll do it again." I got a hand on the sleeve of his robe. "It's weak. It's on the run. We have a chance to end it, forever. We have to!"

He gently removed my fingers. "You were lucky to survive _this _fight, Wizard Dresden," he said.

"_This _fight," I said, stabbing a finger at him, "isn't over yet. It can't end like this. This can_not _be it. That could _not _have been my role - to chase it off like a rabbit? After everyone else wore it down? And then fall flat on my face?"

He nodded, with a little smile, like he had expected nothing less. "There is one last path you can follow."

"Where?"

"The only place left," the Winter Queen said. I hadn't seen her approach, but now she was spitting distance beside me. I recoiled a little.

I took a deep breath, and turned to her. "Outside." It wasn't a question.

She nodded, a smile just like Rashid's on her lips.

I glanced at my unconscious friends. "How do I get there?"

_Harry, this is... not wise._

_No longer matters. It's gone beyond wisdom and foolishness; this is fundamental Good versus Evil. Capital letters, Lash. I know what I have to do. That power over Outsiders I have? It's time to use it, whatever it is_.

The Gatekeeper reached up with one hand... and scooped out his artificial eye.

I refuse to describe that action in any greater detail.

The eye itself was an orb, covered in odd engravings I couldn't quite place and Lash couldn't translate for me. He looked down at it, sighed, then crushed it in his hand. A flashy of light erupted from his fist, like a poorly tuned shield. The light quickly coalesced into a person-sized oval. Through the oval, I could see most of the Gatekeeper and the scenery behind him fade to darkness. Then he walked around it.

It was a portal. It was a portal to the Outside, hidden for who knew how long inside his skull.

Gross.

"Only one may enter," he said, and did so with a bit of pity.

A hand - small, but very strong - gripped my wrist. "Harry, think about this!"

I turned to the owner of that hand. "It has to end, Lash. I _have _thought about it. And I _have _to do this. For me, for Karrin, for Elaine, Molly, even Justin. For everyone. Every moment of my life has led me here. I know I'm not giving you a choice, and I'm sorry. If there were a way to let you out of my head before I went charging in, I would give it to you."

She stared at me for a three-count, then sighed and stroked my cheek. "I would not take it if you did."

I blinked, and she was gone from my sight. _I am honoured to accompany you._

What else can you say to that? _It's an honour - and a comfort - to have you along._

The Gatekeeper did not seem the least bit put out that I had just been talking to myself. I gave him a nod. "You'll take care of them?"

"I will," he said. His remaining eye focussed over my shoulder, and I turned.

Mab was walking among my prone friends, Lea and Bob at her heels and her gaze fixed on Lily.

"What's going on?"

While she looked at the broken Table with dissatisfaction, the gatekeeper said, "The loss of the Table disrupts the bond of the Queen to all of her… possessions. It does not end it, but it changes things. Every time the Table has been sundered in the past, it has been the portent of tidal changes to both the Nevernever and our world."

I watched as she poked Fix with her frozen foot. "Fear not, my Knight," she said to me. "You are still mine." She was obviously happy, and her voice was much less... _wrong _than it had been. She was getting stronger.

The Gatekeeper said, "Time is short, Wizard Dresden."

I turned back to Rashid. "Right. One crisis and enemy at a time." I hesitated a second, then knelt down and planted a quick kiss on Murphy's forehead. "Sorry I was so stubborn," I whispered. Then I turned back to the portal, exchanged nods with the Gatekeeper, and jumped right out of the universe.


	23. Chapter 23

I've been through portals before. On a pretty regular basis, in fact. They were all virtually instantaneous trips, one place one moment, someplace else the next. This time... Not so much.

I drifted, weightless, down a long, dark hallway, or so it felt. I have no idea how long I went along like that, but when I stepped out of the portal-tunnel, I didn't know it for a second.

I was standing in the middle of nowhere, on land that was neither dirt nor rock. It was closer to… burlap, mixed with whipped cream. Sort of.

There was light without a sun; there were no shadows, but I could see, though everything was quite unremarkable. It was flat. Featureless. And the silence was downright physical. I turned in a slow circle, looking around. The portal was there, hanging in the air behind me. Something tingled on the back of my neck, and I spun. I was suddenly not alone.

I was standing with myself. Inner Harry, my id, my unconscious, the Debonair Impersonator. It was the smirking, bearded, taller, darker, handsomer me that always noticed what I didn't.

Except it _wasn't_. We were dressed the same, jeans and boots, button-down shirt that had seen better days, looking better on him, of course. He had my face. He even had my scars and my haircut. But he didn't have my... What's the word I'm looking for? Oh, right.

_Humanity_.

"Hello, Harry."

I lifted the athame and shouted, "_Fuego_!"

Nothing happened. _Nothing_. Not a pull of willpower, not the slightest stirring of energies. _What the hell? _ I couldn't even feel magic in the air. This wasn't like the blanket feeling I'd had the last few weeks in town; it was simply... _absent_.

"Missing something, Harry?" the not-me asked.

My eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

He smiled, and it was just a little too wide for his face - _my _face. "Nothing. There is no magic here, not as you know it."

_Lash, is that true? Lash?_

_I... am uncertain._ She sounded very weak.

I reached for Soulfire. It wasn't there, either.

"Missing something _else_?" he asked.

A set of strong, heavy arms came out of nowhere and wrapped around my torso, holding me tight. I grunted in shock, but before I could do more than look down in surprise, two more arms erupted out of the ground and grabbed my legs, rooting me in place. Another set reached down from the empty sky and pulled my arms up in grips of iron. I dropped the old knife. My neck tried to move, but it was stiff. My tongue stuck itself to the roof of my mouth.

"I believe you know my compatriots. They Who Walk Above," he gestured at my arms, "Below," he looked at my legs, "Behind," he glanced over my shoulder, and I shuddered, "and Within." I groaned out a wordless curse.

Hot breath, carrying a stink of decay, whispered in my ear; "It is good to know DuMorne was right about you after all, dear boy."

I damn near dropped dead right there. He Who Walks Behind, speaking in its natural voice. The voice it had used the first time I had encountered it, the first time it had tried to kill me. I remembered it clearly, the whole encounter, for the first time. All the pain, all the terror, the clerk it had killed at that gas station convenience store…

No. No, now was not the time to remember all of that. I had to get free. I had to... To... What the hell was _that_?

"Do you hear that?" my reflection - He Who Walks Before - asked. I was already listening. A wind had started, though I couldn't feel it. He looked at me, that ridiculous Joker grin in his face - _my _face - and I realized; it wasn't the wind.

It was sound. It was echoing, breathless, static. It was white noise. And the volume was increasing. It was an itch between my ears. It was so powerful, I couldn't believe I hadn't heard it before. It was waves crashing on a beach, but I was buried up to my neck in the sand. Full Dolby 5.1, inside my ear.

It quickly became painful. _Lash! Help me! Can you block that out?_

_I... will... try..._

I could barely hear her, but the rest of the sound faded away. Or at least became bearable.

"_That_," Before said, "is what we hear _constantly_. No order, no reprieve, no mercy. It is the sound of _your_ voices. _Your_ thoughts. _Your_ emotions. It is torturous!" His voice and smile both cracked. And so did the world around him. Behind him, I saw multi-coloured sky, full of shapes I didn't recognize, and movement. Movement on an epic scale, so vast and jarring in so many directions at once that it was incomprehensible. It was chaos, whipping about in five dimensions, and just that brief look shook my brain as surely as a kick to the head.

_God_, I heard Lash whisper. _No wonder it was locked away from the mortals. No, that's wrong. No wonder all mortal life was locked away from _it_. Forgive me._

She fell completely silent, and I couldn't feel her anymore. And the sound of every mortal mind in existence came rushing in. _Lash? Lash?! _I reached for Hellfire... And didn't find it, either.

The Outsider stepped closer to me, the cracks in this reality - the mouth to the Courts of Chaos - closing behind him imperfectly. His impression of my face did not right itself. He now looked like me in a funhouse mirror. His hand sprung up and gripped my throat. Somehow, its voice was clear over all the others. "Did you see? Did you see what we are subjected to? Do you hear it? What we hear, and feel, with no reprieve? Do you see what your God did to us?!"

Did I ever. No relief from the pain, no break from the overwhelming noise, no chance to concentrate or even think...

God and I aren't exactly best buds. We both know that the other has done some rather... _questionable _stuff over the years, like that whole first-born of Egypt thing. Now, He and His have helped me out of a tight spot or two, but I honestly wouldn't put it past Him to have condemned this race - the Outsiders - to this eternal chaos just so we mortals wouldn't have to deal with it.

Got to admit, if I were an Outsider, I'd be pissed, too. With all that swirling around in my head, I squinted against the growing headache and slowly peeled my tongue off the roof of my mouth. He Who Walks Within allowed it, and I asked, "Why?"

The sky fractured again, and this time, the cracks didn't repair; chaos flooded in, and I understood that we were in a protected area. The true Outside was what was bleeding in through the cracks. Before threw up his arms. "Because he feared us! And what we would do to his precious creations."

Didn't have to be a genius to figure that one out. "Humans."

"All mortals!" Crack. "Everywhere!" Crack. Were pieces of this reality falling to the ground? "Not just humans, but everywhere!" All of the arms holding me tightened, and Before's voice dropped. "It is a vast universe you were given, with absolute laws and limits. _Certainties_. What we wouldn't give for that." His hand went back to my throat. He squeezed, and I knew he wasn't letting go this time. I closed my eyes. I was going to die. I had no allies, no magic, no Hellfire, no Soulfire, no weapon, no focus. No _chance_.

There had been other times when I'd been in trouble, but there had always been someone to help, some trick up my sleeve. But not this time.

When I'd fought He Who Walks Behind the first time, as a teenager, it had been harrowing, but I'd managed to use my environment and a little quick thinking to my advantage. This time, there was no environment.

When I'd been taken hostage by Nicodemus and the Denarians, held captive in an underground chamber and tortured, the instant before he would have slit my throat, I'd been rescued by a friend. This time, no friends could come.

When my gun or my staff had been lost before, I'd had my magic, and when it wasn't available I could still run. There was _always_ a way out. This time, I was trapped.

It might have been pathetic, but I suddenly found myself wishing for another chance. A do-over. I mean, I was helpless. I was dead. This time, I was -

**Dresden**.

My eyes snapped open with the realization: I _wasn't_ alone. I had _never_ been alone. There was one Outsider that had championed humanity right from the start, understood the threat the rest of his kind represented and had made peace with the creator of the universe.

Hell, all those times I'd been lucky or in the right place at the right time, it had probably played a part.

My power over Outsiders was acting as the champion of Demonreach.

Unlike every other time I had heard its voice in moments of helplessness, I didn't suddenly find myself overwhelmed by weakness. Quite the opposite, in fact. I felt strength flooding in, and the sound dropping. All the strength I'd lost, all the energy that Demonreach had taken from me... The son of a bitch had been storing it. And it gave it all back at once.

A scream started in my gut, bubbled up my constricted throat and carried an Outsider through my lips.

Yeah. I vomited an ur-demon. All over another one.

At the same time, I got a grip on the arms above me, and yanked down. I saw Before reeling back, covered in some sort of phlegmy mess, and a scaly, furry, winged, grossly misshapen animal form whipped past my eyes, hitting the ground and jarring the Walker that held me there. Then the ground and sky split again, and the chaos - the colour, the movement, the _feeling_, the _thoughts_, the _size_, flooded in faster. To borrow from a wiser man who also saw other worlds than these, it _darkled _and _tincted_.

But my feet and arms were free, and I could move again. I jumped away from the violence I'd started. I ducked under sudden thought, and dodged around a wild colour that froze past me. I leapt within a shape that burned sounds in a specific musical time made of glass.

That makes no sense whatsoever, I know, but it's completely accurate, and the only way to describe what I experienced without using the word 'jabberwocky.'

The Walkers all recovered quickly, and advanced on me through the maelstrom, but I wasn't afraid. I wasn't alone. I wasn't weak.

"_Wizard_."

It appeared I wasn't particularly smart, either. I'd lost track of He Who Walks Behind, and shuddered at the sound of its voice in my ear. I spun around, but there was nothing there. The air filled with images and shapes I didn't understand and had no desire to, opinions, suggestions and colours with as much substance as real matter buffetting me, and the hum of mortal voices began to grow again.

"You can't escape, you know." I spun again. Before was there, still looking like a cross between me and the Mouth of Sauron. "Your way home is closed."

I looked around, and was unable to find the portal. I saw anything and everything else, ideas and colours and memories and planets and vacuum and everything in between, but not the way out. Concentrating was difficult, if not impossible. I could barely gather my thoughts, and my emotional control was slipping quickly. Despite my renewed strength, a note of panic began to settle in and clutch at my heart; I had to defeat these guys – all of them – but if I didn't find the portal, I'd be trapped here, with the voices screaming in my head and absolute chaos raging all around. I'd go mad.

I'd be an Outsider.

And that was unacceptable.

"No!" I winced and dodged around a wild absence. I ran straight at He Who Walks Before – and almost missed the blur that threw itself at my face. I tried to move, but the little streak of colour was too quick and easily lost against the chaotic backdrop.

I was prepared for an impact; I was not prepared for the feeling of liquid forcing its way down my throat. I gagged and fell to my knees, clutching at my throat and mouth just like everyone who's choking in cartoons does. I always thought that was terribly unrealistic – who grabs at their throat when choking? You cough, you sputter, if anything, you grab your chest.

Not this time. No, this time, I was willing to rip out my own throat, just to stop that sensation. As the thing forced its way down, I saw Before, cracked smile widening even more, cracked reality behind him open and pouring in like water into a sinking boat, slowly advancing.

The weird feeling in my throat passed, just in time for a wave of doubt and uncertainty to roll over me. What was I doing here? What had I hoped to achieve? I pitched forward, catching myself on my elbows. I wanted to vomit, very badly. I wanted to go home. But mostly, I wanted to roll into a ball and beg these things and this place to just go away. I was never going to accomplish what I had set out to do, so why had I even tried?

"Don't by stupid, boy."

I looked up. McCoy was standing there, floating in mid-air, translucent. "Sir? How did you get here?"

He looked at me like I was a particularly slow student at school. "I didn't, and you know it. You're projecting."

"Projecting?"

"Sure. That skull o' yours is so full of cracks, voices and things leak out like a sieve. Well I'm just part of that; one more voice leaking out."

"I'm imagining you?" I shook my head. "Most lucid hallucination ever, if I am."

The imaginary McCoy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Hell's bells, your gears grind slow, sometimes. In a place like this?" He swung out his arms. "Where thought and idea are made real by simple virtue of existing? Give your sub-conscious some credit."

"I try. But he's an asshole."

"Harry, listen to me. All this doubt? It's not you. He Who Walks Within got to you."

That... actually made sense.

"Of course it does. You already knew that, or I wouldn't be able to say it."

"But you _are_ part of me, right? Within me? How do I know you're not part of Him?"

A female voice answered as a projection of Elaine floated into my view. "You wouldn't allow it, Harry. You know that. Our voices are yours, not his. We're safe inside you, always have been, even when everything else was wrong, even when nothing else could be counted on, you have _always_ had your friends." She touched my face, stroked it, gently. "You've always had your _family_."

A sudden flaring of pain exploded in my gut, like my stomach was having a seizure. I fell on my side, arms wrapped around my midsection, groaning. My eyes clamped shut, just for a moment. When they opened back up, McCoy and Elaine were still staring down at me. But they had changed. Their faces were still, cold, hollow.

They weren't mine anymore.

"You're not perfect, Harry," Elaine said.

"Doubt is natural," McCoy said. "Your chances are… slim. You really have no business trying."

I grinned, and God (or gods, I'm not picky) help me, I started laughing. I laughed _hard_. "Oh, man!" I laughed more, and the projections vanished. I glanced up and saw He Who Walks Before had paused, about twenty steps or five or fifty away – it was hard to tell now. I laughed more at that. "That's hilarious!" I laughed until my gut ached – not with the pain of the outsider hiding in there, but with that mirthful, genuine, laugh-induced ache you get from sharing the best jokes and stories with friends. With family.

"You actually think _that_ would undermine me?" More laughing. "You're pathetic!" I almost couldn't pronounce 'pathetic' because of how hard I was laughing. "Trying to break my confidence with _that_? Ha!"

I gagged. The laughter weakened, but I didn't stop. Words and a feeling of doubt crept through my head, but I could tell they weren't mine, either. I kept laughing.

And the bile began to rise. I started retching, and I'm pretty sure I tore a muscle somewhere in my abs. I coughed and laughed alternately; but I couldn't get the son of a bitch out of me. I felt a swelling in my stomach, and was struck with an idea.

If my stomach could swell, the rest of me could too, right? Here, in a place where thoughts and ideas were real, where mere will could transcend the physical? Hell, magic was just the imposition of will on reality. I was already practised at it. There really was only one thing to do: I reached into my own mouth.

And it expanded. My fist normally wouldn't have fit all the way in, but this wasn't a normal time, or place. Hell, the ideas of time and place themselves didn't necessarily apply here. I felt my jaw move, but not with the usual sensation of dislocation. It just _got bigger_. I took a breath, then reached farther.

My gag reflex isn't super sensitive – no comments, please – but it would have triggered if I'd tried this in any other set of circumstances. Except, with my mouth so much bigger, my fist should fit, right? At least, that's what I told myself. It was just an application of will, the same as casting a spell or any act of concentration. I reached farther, my fingers moving down my throat. I kept calm, and held my breath, trying not to think about the fact that this shouldn't be working.

My fingers quested down, down, deep enough that my wrist and upper arm slid into my mouth. I could feel my heartbeat through my hand.

Then I touched something that was moving. It recoiled from me, but there was nowhere for it to go; my gut was only so deep. After a moment, I got a grip on it, and yanked. It was holding on to my insides, but it was weakened. I kept pulling, and finally, with a flourish and a grunt, a wet hand and a sense of complete disgust, I puked up a green-grey blob on the ground. It was still moving. Slowly, awkwardly, stiffly, but it moved. Something that could have been a spindly little arm erupted from it, grasping at the ground.

"Going somewhere?" I mumbled through my now oddly-shaped jaw. I shoved myself to my feet, lifted a foot, and drove it down, crushing the blob, grinding my heel into it and whatever passed for the ground here.

The ground cracked, and multiple limbs, some arms, some tentacles, some claws, some I couldn't identify, erupted upwards. I lost my footing and fell flat on my back. The multiple limbs clamped down on me, locking me in place, forehead to feet, like a mummy.

I flexed my arms and legs, gently twisted my abs and tried to move my neck. I had less than a quarter-inch leeway anywhere.

A voice breathed into both my ears at once. "You are unworthy to be a Champion."

Through gritted teeth, I said, "Your little brother just told that one. It got him laughed off stage."

"You are a betrayer. A weak soul, treading the fine line between good and evil, and all too often, stepping over."

"You don't know what you're talking about. Literally; you don't understand morality!"

The voice became a gentle whisper, and I heard it even over all the white noise. "I know you fear yourself. I know you fear your power. I know you have betrayed and destroyed those you loved. I know your word has been malleable." The volume and intensity both rose. "I know you hate yourself."

In my mind's eye, I saw myself burning Justin DuMorne alive; the man had been a father to me. I saw Kim Delaney, dead because I refused to help her. I saw the great Sword _Amoracchius_, with its power taken away due to my act of desperation, trying to escape another commitment to Lea. I saw Susan, poor Susan, forever tainted with the curse of the Red Court, a bloodthirst that could never be taken away, because I hadn't taken the time to talk to her. I saw myself putting a bullet in the head of Anastasia Luccio's original body.

In short, I saw every lie I'd ever told, every attempt to escape obligation, every time I'd ever been late to a meeting, basically every person who had ever suffered because I hadn't done the right thing. It hurt. It was, in fact, paralysing to have it all laid out like that.

"No one's perfect, Harry." My brother – well, what I recognised as a projection of him – knelt down beside me.

"You'd know, wouldn't you, Thomas?"

"Hey, I grew up in the White Court. You think you've done bad? You know Lara, you've met my father. Betrayal and back-stabbing are what we do to pass the time between brunch and dinner." He shrugged. "Or dinner and dessert. Depends how bored we are. I left you hanging once, too. Gave you up to save Justine, remember?"

"Of course. Hard to forget."

"But?"

"But… you came through in the end."

He nodded. "Just like you always do."

Another person appeared to come into view. "Betrayal is reviled, but it does not always leave you beyond redemption," Luccio said.

"I know. And I… I don't think you are. I don't think I can really blame you. You did what you did for family." I surprised myself with that ready forgiveness; I hadn't realised that I had forgiven her until I said it.

I guess that's the lesson; you don't ever truly know what someone else is thinking, for good or bad. You're not _supposed_ to. And If I could forgive someone else… surely I could forgive myself?

The limbs around me convulsed and squeezed, driving the air out of my lungs and the blood into my extremities. The pressure was enormous. I tried to cry out, but the best I got was a desperate wheeze. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move, and I started to panic.

Once, when I was six, before my first real growth spurt, before my father had died, I'd been horsing around with some other boys at a day camp Dad had signed me up for. It had rained that day, so the counsellors – really just high school students drudging through a summer job – had taken us all inside the school where the camp had been located. Some of us were in the gym, but a small group ended up in a general purpose room. The counsellor had turned away – gone to the bathroom, I don't really know – and some of the bigger boys had grabbed me and rolled me up in a rug despite my screams. Then they sat on me.

The panic I'd felt then was roughly what I felt now. But this time there was no high-school student to come to the rescue. I was alone.

"Don't give in now, Harry!" Ana shouted at me. "You can beat this!"

"Getting out of weird, impossible situations is what you do, little brother," Thomas said.

Yeah, great. But how? All these limbs, holding me down…

Limbs. Well, if my throat could stretch… Maybe?

Sure, why not? I forced a breath in, held it, and squeezed back against the crushing arms.

Then, I _grew another arm_. I couldn't quite rationalize having it pop out of my chest, but it erupted out from my shoulder just fine, taking one of the Walker's hands (and a large chunk of my battered shirt) with it. Then again on the other side. Some of the limbs let go of my chest to grab my new appendages. I could breathe again.

But why stop with arms? I felt a new leg ripping its way out of my right hip, then another on the left. They took my jeans with them. The restraints around me weakened and moved; He Who Walks Below simply couldn't keep up with my new growth spurt. "You like Spider-Man? Doctor Octopus? The Fly?" I shouted. I was suddenly in the middle of a dozen arm-wrestling matches, and _I was winning_.

Screaming and flailing, I pulled free of most of the limbs, and rolled over. I sprouted more arms, more hands, erupting from my chest now, my stomach, my back. I started grasping and digging at the textureless ground, and within seconds, I'd plowed through it into something else entirely. Something organic. Something equally colourless.

Something soft. I kept punching and gouging, grabbing and ripping. The soft organic thing under me was mostly composed of limbs, and though they kept trying to block me, I kept knocking them aside. And hitting harder. It was a replay of the Red King, only I was truly seething – with power, as well as anger. As more limbs grew, more power surged in.

After some time – I don't know how long, and being Outside, it might have been no time at all – I stopped. I was breathing hard through my still-enlarged mouth, and all twenty or so of my limbs were heaving with each breath. I stood, a little shaky. He Who Walks Below was just as done as He Who Walks Within.

Something hit me from above, driving me into the ground. Before I could so much as take a breath, I was hauled into the sky – I hesitate to call it 'air' since it was full of concepts rather than gas – by a powerful set of arms. My first thought was 'slyphs', but I dismissed that. It was pretty obvious He Who Walks Above had me.

I flailed, arms and legs and more arms and legs whipping around wildly. I was shouting, my words not quite forming the way they were supposed to in my loose jaw. My deformed mouth had been working, but the shock being driven into the ground and yanked back up had been a bit much.

It screeched. I got my head turned upward. It was a scaly, feathered, distorted, bird-like beast. And it was _big_. I was gripped in its arms and talons. Its wings were wider than Thomas' old Humvee. Its beaked head twisted around and one of its eyes bored right into me. "You cannot succeed," it whispered.

I saw my failures. All of them. I saw the tests I failed in grade school. I saw Linda Randall, her heart ripped out because I hadn't been quick enough to find her killer. I saw my father, dead of an aneurysm because I hadn't seen the signs. (I'd been eight, but I should have known!) I saw Carmichael, Murphy's old partner, ripped to shreds before I could stop the loup-garou. I saw Susan, again, half-dead and half-blood mad. I saw Meryl, a changeling friend of Fix and Lily, sacrificing herself to save me and others because I hadn't stopped Aurora fast enough.

I saw them all and dozens more; I saw dead women and men, friends and strangers, I saw maimed and tortured souls. I saw the bad guys winning, the monsters getting a foothold, and deals with the devil that could never be escaped.

And at the heart of them all, I saw me, failing to prevent any of it, despite my best efforts. How badly had I failed? How _many_ had I failed? So many people, all paying the price for me screwing up?

For amoment, I would have given anything to do it all over, to save those people, to correct those mistakes. The impact of it all dropped me, and I went into a dive, headed straight for the textureless ground. And I found myself almost welcoming it.

"It's not true, Mr. Dresden. I mean, Harry." A transparent Ivy was falling along with me. "Not all failures are yours. You can't be so foolish as to believe you are responsible for everyone else's actions."

"But - " I started, though it came out 'Buh'.

"Don't, Harry." An image of Michael, the bearded paragon of virtue, was floating along with me now, too. "You always try to shoulder the burden. But you always forget that yours are not the only shoulders that can bear it." He shook his transparent head. "Taking responsibility for everyone else, for all the bad things in the world… it's what you do, but you must have faith – if not in God, then in humanity – that others can take responsibility for their own actions. Failure is not your cross to bear alone."

"You have made mistakes, Harry," Ivy said. "But everyone does. But I would point out, that statistically speaking, you have succeeded more often than you have failed."

The ground and a million other random things were rushing up at me now.

"Those who have died made their own choices, Harry," Michael said. "You did not put them in danger – you toiled endlessly to save them from it. To remove them from danger." He leaned in close and started to fade away. "Remove yourself, this time."

_Yeah, great idea. How?_

He and Ivy disappeared without answering. I saw the ground approaching, I felt the air – or whatever it was – getting caught in my distended mouth, felt the air was catching it, like a brake or –

A wing.

With the tiniest of effort, I willed wings to sprout from my back. Not little prissy things, either – full-on, dragon-scale, Batman-inspired wings. They caught the air – or whatever – like a parachute, and I leveled out into a super-fast glide. A screaming sound, louder than the voices of all humanity – all mortals, everywhere, throughout the universe – erupted above me.

He Who Walks Above slammed into me, driving us both into the ground.

Or it would have, if I hadn't vanished.

Focussing on a spot above the Walker – back up in the air, surrounded by chaos – I was suddenly _there_. Wings spread, I finally got a good look at it: covered in scales and feathers, with five wings and seven talons, its head was mounted on a spindly neck, and culminated in a long, hooked beak. The tail looked borrowed from a scorpion, segmented and tipped with a hooked barb.

It was trying to turn over as it fell. I tried to smile as I coasted along, while it smashed into the ground at a breakneck speed. Then I dove.

The ugly beast clawed itself halfway out of the gouge it dug just as I crashed into it from above, screaming. I was having difficulty thinking now, simply acting on instinct. All of my arms and legs were suddenly pounding on the monster, and my slowly retracting mouth was screaming something incoherent. I landed several blows before one of the Walker's wings snapped up and struck me across the face.

I flew backwards, but my body seemed to know exactly how to right itself, and I landed on my feet. The Walker hopped out of the hole it had fallen into, landing on some of its talons. It screeched at me, wings and talons and mouth wide open. Without thinking, I flared my own wings and arms, all of them, and screamed back. Then we threw ourselves at each other, like King Kong and the T-Rex.

We were both pretty pissed, I'd say; the voices in my head, blended together into a roar of white noise, was distracting and frustrating, and the Walker was a true monstrosity, which didn't like being beaten by a mortal. We both unloaded that anger and frustration, hatred and fear, on the other.

Every blow I landed on it let a little of that emotional fury go.

Every blow it landed on me caused a flash in my mind: Susan; Victor Sells; Kim Delaney and Harley MacFinn; Carmichael; Lydia; Meryl; Lash; Arturo Genosa and his friends; Luccio; Molly, Rosie and Nelson; Anna Ash; Elaine; Morgan; Ivy; Murphy; Thomas; my parents.

Every image was of a person I had cared for, each of them at a moment when they had been at their most vulnerable, at a moment when I hadn't been there for them. The Walker was trying to undermine me by showing me my failures.

It backfired. Badly.

Instead, I drew on the frustration and rage that each image presented. I might have let those people down from time to time, I might have made mistakes that got them hurt. But they had all made their own decisions that led them to those moments, too.

It wasn't all on me; I hadn't saved them all, but I wasn't supposed to. I'd been a long time in coming to that little revelation. Being a good person doesn't mean always saving everybody. It means doing what you can, doing your best, and letting the world be.

Right now, my best included beating the ever-loving shit out of this monster. It gave as good as it got, but so did I. My skin broke numerous times, talons sank into muscle, but I ignored it; after all, I could just grow a new arm, couldn't I? Or why stop there? Couldn't I just fix the one that was hurt?

With that thought, my wounds all closed. I let out a bellow of triumph, and re-doubled my attack. Finally, one of my many, many fists cracked it across the beak. It flinched backward, and in that moment, I threw myself forward and completely lost myself in the melee. It went down under me, an unnatural place for it, and despite its flailing and thrashing, it didn't know how to cope.

I beat it until it stopped moving, then hit it some more anyway.

"Borrowed time," a loud voice said. I jumped up. He Who Walks Before was standing there, looking down at me. He was still wearing a distorted, broken copy of my face. "You're living on borrowed time, and borrowed power, _champion_." He held his hands out to his sides, and they began to light up with power. "I have plenty to spare, though."

He threw balls of energy at me. I had no time to do anything but wrap my wings around myself. The spell – or whatever it was, since there was no magic here - hit me like a freight train, and I went flying, tumbling end over end. I saw stars, which drifted away from me like they do in cartoons, and joined the cacophony of imagery in the sky. I saw that happen just before I hit the ground on my shoulders and flipped over. I managed to land on a couple of my legs, digging a furrow with my momentum. I steadied myself instantly with all of my arms, but my wings were fried. I could smell them cooking.

I roared at the Walker, and simply grew new wings, the old ones falling off and vanishing into the ether. It launched itself at me. It moved like a really ugly bullet, spinning and zipping along almost faster than I could see. I dove to the side and hit a metaphor as the Walker passed by.

The flood of chaos and thought-made-real was getting worse. I pushed myself to my feet and bumped my head on a cliché, which hurt like a simile. I turned to snarl at it in frustration, and took a kick to the face. I fell, my neck snapping back and limbs flailing, my warped jaw displaced and swinging. The skin of my face burned and the pain was beyond expression. I landed in a bright puddle of tropes.

"No strength left," Before continued. "Just a few tricks and desperation." I felt an impact and a burning sensation somewhere in my midsection. The air was driven from my lungs and I sputtered, gasping. Another impact. And another. The Walker was kicking me, each impact accompanied by an insult. "You are weak! You are mortal! You are nothing!"

I couldn't get an arm up or a leg bent. I could barely get a breath in. The lack of focus, the lack of energy; it was crashing down on me – almost literally, here. What I wouldn't give to have another chance to fix this. To fix everything…

Then he was on top of me, pinning me down. His mouth, already unnaturally extended – seriously, he reminded me of Ledger's Joker – widened again, and he started drooling on me. It was acidic, and seared my skin. I tried to will it to heal, to thicken, but he punched me in the head, and what little focus I had was gone. I screamed in anger.

I started swinging multiple arms at him, but he grew more arms himself, and simply held me in place, while still having more than enough fists to pummel me with. I tried to teleport away again, but his grips on me wouldn't release, and I snapped back.

I couldn't move. I couldn't fight back. I'd given it a good fight, done all I could, but I simply couldn't move – the pain and the rage were starting to blind me. I couldn't concentrate, couldn't _think_…

There was a growl beside my ear, but there was something… familiar about it. I turned my head, and saw a transparent image of Mouse crouching beside me, angrily staring down the Walker. Blows kept landing on me. Everything seemed to slow down – hell, for all I know, everything actually did – and Mouse turned to me.

I heard his voice in my head. It was a clear, bright clarion call, and it cut through the cacophony of every voice in the universe, it cut through all the rage, all the fear. It cut through my weakness, and hit me like a splash of cold water. His voice was refined, not rough, and had an almost, dare I say, _angelic_ feel to it?

_Get up, Harry. You're stronger than this. Not just in body, but in spirit. _

My jaw and tongue didn't want to work, but I made them. "I don't think - "

_Get up!_

That last was delivered like a slap. My dog faded away, the chaos flooded back into my head, but I was clear. I was thinking. I was _strong_.

I heaved my many legs and wrenched my many arms as He Who Walks Before tried to hit me again. We rolled over, and I found myself top of him. With all the leverage suddenly mine, I started delivering blow after blow – punches, kicks, knees. The limbs started flying furiously on both sides – I still took a few shots to the head, the joints, the gut – but I gave just as good as I got. I wasn't weak – I was holding my own against one of the things that goes bump in the night.

It landed one good hit on my jaw – but the jaw just kind of rolled with it, stretching out and practically over my shoulder. I kept hitting, but one good knee to my back knocked me off. I scurried back on all twenties, and crouched, facing it. It was like a twisted mirror staring back. My jaw once again retracted, but Before's mouth was larger and even more full of sharpened, vampiric teeth than previously. It smiled. "You offer a brief challenge."

I smiled back, rolled my jaw once to make sure it was in the right place, and said, "Tell that to your brothers."

His smile vanished, and he threw himself at me again. I was ready, this time. I ducked and threw ten uppercuts at once, just as he was passing over me.

Several of his teeth broke off, and even though my hands were bloodied, I let out a roar of triumph. I closed with him quickly, before he could recover, and laid into him. Bursts of light – the version of magic here, I supposed - erupted from him as his skin cracked, broke, and bloodied. His head changed shape under my hands, like a squeezed balloon. He tried to parry, but simply couldn't stop me and my Demonreach-fuelled strength.

Finally, I drove half a dozen fists into his face at once, and he fell, unmoving.

I stood there, breathing heavily, feeling equal parts thrilled and angry. I threw back my head and screamed into the sky.

And it was a sky. The various ideas and concepts had retreated; I was standing in an empty hemisphere. "Well done," a voice said over my shoulder. A voice that touched a deep, visceral, buried part of me, connected directly to my fear response. I spun with a startled cry, thrusting out arms in a vicious swing. There was nothing there. "I had great hopes for you," it said again.

I spun the other way, suddenly terrified. Goosebumps on twenty limbs is quite the sensation. The body of He Who Walks Before was gone. "Show yourself!" I shouted, though it came out distorted. The bravado in my voice was 100% faked.

A dry chuckle over my shoulder. I spun.

A hiss behind my ear. I jumped and turned.

A sudden blow to my back, crushing a wing and sending me into the ground, hard.

I rolled over, keeping the ground to my back. "Get behind me now, you son of a bitch!"

It kicked me in the head. I rolled and tumbled, seeing stars again. These ones didn't take on a life of their own. Worse, I began to feel the surge of strength I'd taken from Demonreach – or, I guess, taken _back_ from Demonreach – ebb. I was running out. Woozy and hurting, unable to focus or really think, I forced my head up on muscles fuelled by rage.

"Can you find me yet?" the air beside my ear asked me, and I flinched, turning. I turned in a slow, un-ending circle. It couldn't get behind me if I kept turning, could it?

Another blow to my back. I grunted and stumbled, anger beginning to blur my vision. If it was always behind me, how the hell was I supposed to fight it?

The full memory of my first encounter with the Walker rushed through my mind. The creepy son of a bitch had stayed behind me the whole time, until I'd started spinning – but that hadn't worked here, on its home turf. What else had happened? How had I survived?

It had nearly broken my face against every surface in the store, but then I'd started twirling around and got outside, where it had been waiting for me, and killed the clerk.

Then I set the bastard on fire. There was no magic here, not as I knew it, but…

"Anything to say?" the voice asked.

"Yes. _Fuego_!"

_I_ burst into flame.

I didn't project the fire anywhere, I just willed my skin to burn, erupting in gouts of pure heat. I imagined I looked a lot like a Balrog. It hurt, but I took a grim satisfaction from knowing it was hurting the Walker too.

Or not.

"Excellent, there's fight left in you yet!" The voice was no further away. And the impact from when it hit me was not lessened. I flew a few yards and fell on my wings, painfully.

How the hell was I supposed to fight this thing? What else could I do to something that was always behind me?

"_You_ have to get behind _it_, Harry." I looked up at the calm, stern voice, and the fierce, blonde face attached to it. Murph looked just like I had last seen her, a little weary, roughed up, and beautiful as all get-out. "It feeds on your fear, your worry, your self-doubt. It will destroy you if you let it."

"Gonna destroy me anyway."

"That's the fear talking. That's the creeping doubt, at the back of your mind. Stalking you. Stalking us all, really. But you know full well it can only take you if you let it."

"How do I beat it?"

She smiled and leaned in close. "It's a weakness behind you, Harry. But all your strengths – all the people you love and who love you, we're all behind you, too." She whispered, "Now _you_ have to get behind you," then she was gone.

"Say what?"

A kick to my mid-section, barely cushioned by my extra limbs. I flipped over in midair and landed on my face. I lifted my head, slowly. A hand slid into my hair and pulled me up, bending my neck at an annoying angle and ripping out hair in clumps. "You prove to be even more entertaining as DuMorne himself."

"Yeah, I'm a regular barrel of monkeys."

"Though I tire of the witticisms."

"I've yet to decide how to kill you. A twist of the neck?" He wrenched me sideways and tossed me to the ground. Before I could get up, a dozen limbs wrapped around me, tight, and yanked me to my many feet. My own arms were limp and had no leverage to force it off me. "A crushing?" The limbs tightened, and I lost my breath. "Or a simple beating?" I was lifted and slammed into the ground. I saw black, then red.

My eyes opened slowly. "Or perhaps," the voice said, and I no longer had the strength to flinch away, "I will keep you here for eternity, watching and listening as my brethren flood into your reality and destroy it all. Silence it all."

My eyes snapped back to focus. Threatening my friends and family was a damn good way to get me angry. It was an even better way to get me thinking. And I suddenly understood what Murphy – what _I_ – had been trying to tell me. I pushed myself up to my knees. A hand wrapped around my neck from behind and lifted me to my feet, then higher. My arms and hands barely managed to keep me from choking. "Or perhaps," the Walker continued, "I will merely crack your throat, or remove your tongue, and let you suffer in silence forever."

I blinked, and was instantly standing three feet behind where I had been. I lashed out at the empty air – except, for just a moment, it wasn't empty. It was full of an ugly, deformed, scaly monstrous presence. One of my feet clipped it as it vanished.

I was rewarded with a cry of surprise and pain.

So I did it again. I was tossing half a dozen punches before I teleported – an odd sensation in itself, it just felt like the world around me was moving while I stayed still. Four fists impacted before the monster faded away again. The next time, five. Then six. Then I got a few kicks in.

He Who Walks Behind was simply unable to deal with someone who could get behind _it_. It was a complete glass cannon. Its howls of rage every time I got behind it and hit it were music to my ears, and I harmonized with a scream of triumph.

It went on like this, for how long I don't know, and it doesn't matter. After a while, it took longer to get away. Then, much longer. Then, finally, it didn't fade away at all. The Walker collapsed under my fists, face down.

I stood over it, not quite knowing what to expect. I had victory in my grasp – what last trick would it have up its sleeve?

I kind of expected laughter. I did not expect the request. "Now," it said. "Finish it. Finish it all, and start again!"

"Yeah, I'll finish you, all right!"

"All! Finish it all!"

I paused. "What?"

"Restart it all!" The Walker rolled over, and its beady little eyes – incongruous in its ridiculous, distorted head – found mine. "You want it. Just as much as we did."

I…

I wanted to deny that, but I'd just had the thought a few minutes ago, hadn't I? A chance for a do-over. I'd wanted it a few times.

The Walker saw me thinking. It laughed at me. "You are truly one of us, now. You have the power simply by virtue of being here. You can go back. You could undo all that which was done wrong. Take back all the mistakes made." It was tempting, I'll admit. "All your own." Obviously. "And everyone else's. It's all we wanted. We needed a mortal to make the choice. We thought DuMorne, perhaps, but he rebelled. We thought Schneider, but you cast him down. But now, there is you."

I paused again. There were quite a few mistakes I could take back. So much that had gone wrong – so many I'd hurt and destroyed –

What the hell was I thinking?

"Get out of my head!" I yelled at it. "I am nothing like you!"

"How cliché," it said, and lifted a finger. I followed the line of that finger to a point beside me. There was a mirror standing there, now, far away. I approached it slowly, knowing what I would see and hating it, fearing it. And embracing it. I saw my reflection.

It was horrifying. I was naked. My skin was a mottled assembly of various colours and textures, like a surrealist scrapbooking image of a person. I had nine arms and seven legs, all connected to my torso. I still had wings, five of them, erupting from my back at all angles and looking like something pulled off a dragon that had been set on fire.

Worst, though, was my face. My hair was gone. My skull was deformed, bulging in every direction. My jaw was still distorted, not quite closing right. My nose looked broken, pulling down in a 45o direction across my face. And my eyes were sunken, dark and red.

I couldn't look away, even when I heard the Walker struggling to its feet behind me. "You are as much an Outsider as I. You cannot go back. You cannot be what you were. The only way forward, is to undo the cosmos, while you still have the choice to do so!"

I was on the cusp of listening, of believing, when a connection suddenly erupted in the back of my mind. All those years of absorbing pop culture, I never once thought it would actually be useful, let alone save the universe. But there it was, as the Walker tried to be Emperor to my Luke.

I turned to He Who Walks Behind, and made sure to clench my right fists as I did so. "You've failed your highness. I am a Jedi, like my father before me!"

The Walker's head tilted, like it had heard a foreign language, and I suppose it had. I closed my eyes, and remembered myself.

"I am Harry Dresden!" I said. I opened my eyes again, and felt a wing fall from my back. "Son of Malcolm and Margaret!" I took a step forward, leaving one of my legs behind. Then an arm fell off, vanishing into the ether. "Grandson to Ebenezar!" Another step. With each pace I took towards the Walker, more of the extra pieces were left behind. "Brother to Thomas!" My jaw finally snapped back into place. "Friend to Michael!" The last of the wings fell away. "Teacher to Molly!" Down to two legs. "Friend to William, to Georgia, to Ivy, Knight to Winter, friend to Summer, guide to Lasciel!" I took one more step, and felt my skin returning to normal. "Past to Elaine, and future to Karrin!" I looked down at myself. My body was as I remembered it from all my recent showers: bruised, tall, battered, lean and _mine_. I looked back at the Walker, who was now thoroughly confused.

"It is impossible. I do not understand!"

"I am Harry Dresden, wizard. I'm mortal, you son of a bitch, and I've made my choice!" I took another step. "You weren't locked away from the universe at the dawn of creation, were you? It was the other way around. The universe was locked away from the Outside, to keep humans – to keep all mortals – from having unlimited power. Any mortal here would have this power, and you needed to draw one in – one with power - and convince it that the universe would be better unmade. To convince one to play God, to have unlimited power, and still have the free will to use it. Well, like I said; you failed."

The Walker, still on its knees, looked confused for another moment. Then, it started to chuckle. "There will be another. There will always be another. This was as close as we've ever come, but there will be another chance, another mortal willing to succumb. We are eternal, _wizard_, and you will die here!"

I nodded. "You're half-right," I said. Then, I started laughing. And running, straight at the eternal monster, straight at the darkness. I understood what the Soulgaze had meant; with all those good people behind me, with the life I had led, how could I not give all to destroy the evil that l stalked us all?

I ran, laughing, straight at the bastard, and at the same time, drew upon my very essence – the truest magic, the one a wizard – the one a _mortal_ – carried with them through their entire existence. I drew upon my life itself, and readied my death curse.

As I ran, the Walker finally pushed itself back to its feet, and bellowed at me. I only laughed harder, seeing the Incredible Hulk. It took a few lumbering steps towards me, genuinely angry now. I didn't care. I got angry myself at this pompous, self-serving, murdering monster , and my laughter turned into a cry of defiance and rage. Three steps away from it, I threw myself at it, fist pulled back, and cried out, "_Understand_!"

I felt the life pull away from me, felt the power flow out, like casting a spell, but infinitely greater. There is no way to truly describe it, but I felt a part of myself… _transcend_: I was suddenly _less_ and _more_ at once.

As the strength left me, I had the immeasurable satisfaction of seeing the Walker's eyes glaze over; hit with the curse, it was granted an instantaneous view from the mortal level. It saw, it felt, it knew what it was to be one of us little people. It understood.

Then my fist sank into it chest, knocked its heart – or what I imagined to be its heart, in this place it all came to the same thing – and we both fell to the ground in a tumble, as my vision narrowed and faded to black.

Some time later, some unknown and immeasurable time later, my eyes opened, which they were not supposed to do. I was still lying in a mess with the body of He Who Walks Behind, my right arm covered in gore and ichors. The concepts and ideas and chaos were still held at bay, still floating around madly just a few hundred yards away. I took a breath, and pulled my arm free, collapsing to the ground.

I heard my own breathing, my own heartbeat. It made little sense; I had thrown my life, my sustaining magic, my very essence at this thing – and I'd felt it go. How was I still alive?

I heard clapping.

I rolled over onto my side and got my head up. "Worthy, mortal. Surprisingly worthy."

"How did I survive?"

The man – I knew it wasn't a man, though he appeared man-shaped and sized – shrugged. "Things are different here, and the use of magic – and there _is_ magic, despite what the Walkers would say – is governed by very different rules."

I shrugged, too, because I couldn't wave a hand, and decided to just go with it. "Well, in that case, Ferrovax," I said, "to what do I owe the pleasure? I'm sorry, I haven't had a chance to clean the place up; I wasn't expecting a Dragon to drop by."

He was dressed in a simple robe, pure white. His face was old without being ancient, and lined without being craggy. But he was old. Old beyond imagining, except perhaps for my fallen Walker friends.

The Dragon snorted, and a wisp of smoke came from his nostrils. "I had to see what all the fuss was about on this side of the wall. I'm not easily impressed. But today, you showed me something new. Something… unexpected."

"Glad to be of service," I said. He didn't catch the sarcasm, and maybe that was for the best.

"For that, I offer you a favour."

"A favour?"

"I will return you home."

"That would be swell," I said.

He stepped forward, and produced a knife from behind his back. I recognised the athame. He held it out to me. "To me, this is little more than a trinket. To your Queen… well. I find it better if she owes me a favour, rather than the other way around."

I nodded. "I'll make sure she knows. She can thank you personally."

He gave me an unenthusiastic half-smile. Then he took my hand, and everything went black again.


	24. Epilogue

I came home on Christmas Day. The Guardsman who found me in the wreckage of Cellular Field would swear up and down that I hadn't been there a moment ago when he looked, that he would have remembered seeing a naked man lying in the bleachers, but it didn't matter. I was home. I was back in Chicago, alive and breathing, and the sky was clear and blue. And it was freaking cold out.

In the end, the massive fires and destruction were all blamed on gas leaks caused by the earthquake, but as icing on the cover-up cake, the rumours of a terrorist attack were talked down, but never fully dispelled. I assume a few holes in the official story were put there on purpose to give the conspiracy nuts something to focus on besides the possibility of magic. I don't think I have to say that the government – at least a few departments – were complicit in the cover-up. And I also probably don't have to say that the survivors weren't talking. Pretty much everyone felt the same way: Who the hell would believe them?

A few hours after I got back to reality, the first one to hear and find me was, naturally, Karrin. By the time she tracked me down at what amounted to a refugee camp in Westchester, I'd scrounged up some jeans and a sweat shit, but hadn't really gotten my strength back – she flying-tackled me in a tight hug that threw me to the ground. I didn't mind, and she never apologised. As I recall, all I said was, "Missed you, too." She just squeezed harder. For that moment, it was enough.

The reconstruction of Greater Chicago was to take years – and created, all told, several thousands of jobs. A remarkable number of those jobs were in construction, controlled demolition, and waste disposal, a great many of the contracts awarded to companies owned by John Marcone, a local business hero who was recovering from a nasty injury (he'd taken a chunk of flying masonry through the shoulder).

I hated it, but I supposed it was better than letting the contracts go to an outsider who wouldn't know or care for Chicago at all. He was helped in his endeavour by his trusted operations manager, Helen Demeter. Ms. Demeter's daughter, who was comatose, was housed in a private room at the finest hospital in the tri-state area, and visited daily by her mother, who everyone said was a warm, lovely woman.

Go figure.

Overall, the loss of life was pegged at around 4000, give or take. An exact figure was never and could never be named. I hated that, too. I knew I wasn't directly responsible for each and every one of those deaths, but I accepted that some of the blame was on me. This was my town, after all. I could only resolve to do better in the future.

Of course, I'd have to do better with fewer allies. Oh, the Alphas stayed, most of them, anyway. This was their town, too. And Will and Georgia were not long before they had a little cub on the way.

But Thomas was leaving. His apartment had survived everything with only minor structural damage, and was cleared for habitation almost immediately. Karrin and I moved into his spare bedroom with little convincing. He and Justine spent that night elsewhere. (In gratitude, I think we managed to only blow out three lightbulbs. And maybe the TV.)

"So you two are off to LA?" I asked at the one and only dinner that Karrin, Thomas, Justine and I had together.

"Off to see family," he said, standing over a two-days late Christmas dinner, one hand pouring red wine, and one hand on Justine's shoulder. "Well, Dad's side."

Justine had her hand on his, and they were both smiling. "Inari and Bobby, of course," she said. "Then, we were thinking Egypt."

"Egypt?" Karrin said with a raised eyebrow. "You have family in Egypt?"

Justine looked up at Thomas. He smiled and glanced over at the door, where the great Sword _Amoracchius_ rested against the wall. "Just… had an idea I could do some good there."

Murph smiled. "I know what you mean."

I drove to the airport in a car that Thomas had arranged for me, as a Christmas present. Or, as he said, "The last Christmas present you're ever getting from me. Ever." A 1967 Corvette Stingray. I tried to refuse, and he tried to point out that I was an idiot, and in the end I saw his point. It was blue, of course, but it didn't really replace the Blue Beetle. It just succeeded it. I gave it a month, maybe two, before it broke down irreparably, but I planned to enjoy the lead out of it in the meantime.

Just before heading off for their security frisking, Thomas embraced me. "Lara's agreed to keep paying for the apartment, for six months. Long enough for you to get on your feet, I thought."

"Appreciate it. Don't really have much at the moment."

He glanced at Karrin and gave her a wink. "You've got plenty, little brother." Then he clapped my shoulder and walked off hand in hand with Justine.

The same day my brother – and, I dared think, my future sister-in-law – caught their flight, we also saw off a few others. Sanya was heading back to Russia, for the first time in a couple of years.

"Home is where the hearth is," he said, shaking my hand.

"Heart," I corrected.

"If you had ever been to Russia in winter, you would know I said it right." He turned to Murphy and favoured her with one of his huge smiles. "I shall see you soon, I think."

"Not too soon, I hope," she said, and gave him a hug. She seemed freer with the hugs lately.

He just laughed. "Never too soon to do good and kill evil!" He drew a few looks from passer-by, but no security personnel. Of course. Then he was on his way, too.

When Elaine was ready for her own departure, Karrin very suddenly had to go buy a candy bar from a vending machine. Women and their crazy cravings.

"You're not actually taking a plane, are you?"

She shook her head. "Stars, Harry, I'm not crazy. It would probably be safe, but the Way I know is faster."

"Of course it is." I shook my head, not really sure what to say. "I'm not good at this part."

"Me neither. Never have been." We both looked like a pair of awkward teenagers. Tall, gangly teenagers. Completely unsure of ourselves or out bodies, maybe not even our minds. Certainly not our loins. Finally, she took the plunge. "I'm happy for you."

I smiled, though it was a sad smile. "Thank you."

"Don't suppose I could convince you to come to LA sometime?"

"Maybe in a few months. Once things calm down here."

She nodded. "Plenty of Paranet work to get at."

"Maybe I could come out, and we could have a Paranet-con."

"That actually sounds like a good idea."

"I'll call you," I said.

She nodded. We shook hands for a second, two, then we were embracing. In that moment, I knew we would stay friends.

We separated naturally, neither of us pulling away from the other. "Take care," I said.

"Always." Then she, too, was heading away.

The next good-bye was at home, and it followed a hello. When Karrin and I got back to the Gold Coast apartment, I slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the Blue Vette. I took ten steps and fell to my knees. I wrapped my arms around Mouse's neck, and he even got a paw around my back. I pulled back and got both hands on his big, shaggy, beautiful head. "Good to see you, buddy."

He huffed at me, then let his tongue out and licked my face – and I mean my entire face – once. Then he looked down, and I saw Mister. I picked the ridiculous cat up, struggling only a little. "Just as good to see you, too." He looked completely unimpressed.

We were settled in not five minutes when I got a page from the ground floor. I had some… interesting visitors.

McCoy, Ramirez and the Gatekeeper needed to talk. And I needed to talk to them. No one asked Murphy to leave. Rashid had replaced his missing eye with a new one, that looked just like the one he'd had before. I finally had a chance to explain to them what happened after the sylphs grabbed me at the stadium. I went as far as the Walker escaping. "This mess with Luccio," McCoy grumbled, "has left us in a bind. She left a note for Chandler. A lot of Wardens – including Chandler, who should be the natural successor – are having a problem with it. No one knows who to trust." He looked at me, rather pointedly.

"Not a chance in hell," I said.

"I don't want to you to _be_ captain, hoss; I know how you feel about the whole business. I want you to _pick_ the next captain."

"Oh. Well, that's easy. The only Warden I know and trust is sitting right here."

"Me?" Carlos said. "You can't be serious."

"Why not? Is it the hand thing? You can get a hook, like a pirate."

"No, man. I'm too young."

The Gatekeeper leaned forward. "You may have noticed, Warden Ramirez, that the majority of Wardens are quite young these days. And that both you and Wizard Dresden command a great deal of respect from them. With his endorsement, even the Merlin would concede to your appointment."

I gave Rashid a finger-gun. "There you go."

"But, but…" Ramirez took a second to find his voice. "But there's so much paperwork."

I laughed. Karrin slapped him on the shoulder. "You'll do fine, kid. Police work is half paperwork, anyway."

I wanted to laugh at his face – a cross between scared, excited and resigned – but something else was on my mind. "Sir? One other thing?"

McCoy took a breath and nodded. "Molly?"

"Yeah."

"Don't worry, hoss. I don't think it'll be hard to talk Mai into letting her re-sit them. She's a stickler for not leaving any loose threads dangling."

I nodded, somewhat satisfied. It was the best I could hope for, really.

"Of course, there's a Senior Council position open. And whoever takes it will have a grace period where their every word will be considered, even in matters like getting an apprentice a second go at her exams."

One of my eyebrows crawled into my hairline. "What are you saying, Sir?"

"I've had a vague and unofficial conversation with Langtry. Considering, well, _everything_, he's agreed to offer the opening to you, if you want it."

"Holy shit, Dresden," Ramirez said. "Uh, sorry, sirs," he added.

I sat back. The Merlin was quite a politician; given the lowered age of the majority of wizards these days, and the fact that so many of them knew me, I'd be a popular choice. I knew in a blink that I'd never take it; I didn't need more power or temptation, and my PI business – my whole life, really – was going to need my complete attention right now. "Tell him I'll think about it," I said.

McCoy snorted.

I finished the story, which, up to that point, only Karrin had heard all the way through. Carlos looked at me with awe, McCoy nodded soberly and nodded as though he expected nothing else. The Gatekeeper hardly moved a muscle.

I walked them to the door. While McCoy and Ramirez waited in the hall, the Gatekeeper shook my hand. He didn't let go quickly, but rather leaned in close and spoke in a low voice. "You understand, now? The importance of the Gates?"

"Stars and stones, yes."

"Good. That is good. Should I ever retire, there is now someone who understands. Someone who could, if necessary, take my place." He squeezed my hand, nodded deeply, and turned away.

I was left shaking my head.

Four days later, I walked Molly from the hospital to her re-test. The Merlin took Captain Luccio's place in the exam panel himself. To no one's surprise, Molly passed with flying colours. I was the first to congratulate her. I hugged her, almost knocking her over since she still couldn't put much weight on her one leg. "I'm proud of you, grasshopper."

"Thanks, teach. Couldn't have done it without you. Obviously."

It was New Year's Eve the following day, and we celebrated at the Carpenter house – which had survived the past month with nary a scratch. Of course.

At the celebration, Michael and Charity were hard-pressed to let Molly go. Alicia and Kelly were inseparable, and even Daniel managed to cast off his seriousness for a night.

But Karrin seemed distracted. I caught her sitting near the fireplace, keeping young Harry Carpenter company while he droned on about some cartoon based on a videogame. I touched her shoulder. "Sorry, little man. Need to borrow this lady."

"M'kay," he said, and dashed off to corner one of his sisters.

"You okay?" I asked, plunking down next to her.

She took a deep breath. "I've been getting a call."

"A Sword-call?"

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"Australia."

"When?"

"ASAP."

I nodded.

"I'll be back, you know."

I looked her right in the eye. "I know. I have faith."

She smiled and kissed me. We spent the rest of the evening near each other, and kissed again at the stroke of midnight. I had high hopes for the new year.

I had trouble letting her go a couple days later at the airport. It would have been an odd sight; a 6 and a foot tall man refusing to let go of a 5 foot nothing woman – but anyone who knew us knew she could have broken my grip at any second. The good-bye wasn't quick, but it was sweet. I waited until she was invisible behind the security checkpoint before leaving.

I was in the parking garage, near my new car, keys in hand, when I felt the chill up my back. I suddenly had a longing for my duster. I'd have to get a new one soon. I turned around. The Winter Lady was there. She was dressed conservatively, for her. A small jacket over a tight blue tee shirt, and jeans that actually had some give in them.

"Queen to Be," I said.

"So respectful," she said, and took a few steps closer. She limped a little. "Mother wishes you to know, she expects you at Court tomorrow." She stepped right up to me. "I'd be more than happy to escort you," she said, leaning in close.

"I'm sure you would, Lady," I said, checking my temper. "But that is tomorrow. Today, I'm afraid I'm not… good company."

She grinned at me. "Oh, dear Harry, are we sad?"

I said nothing, just set my jaw and stared over her head.

"Oh, so serious. Not as much fun as Lloyd. But so much more capable. In the morning, Mr. Knight," she said. She slunk away from me, heading for a shadow. In a moment, she was gone.

I got into the car, and just breathed for a three-count. I was still under Winter's thumb. Well, I'd worry about that later. Tonight, I had one more night to myself. And I was glad I didn't have to say good-bye to Karrin in the morning.

The drive back, I took my time, trying to enjoy everything, even the other drivers who cut me off.

I was back in the apartment less than a minute when there was a knock at the door. Which was odd, since visitors had to get buzzed up. A neighbour? I opened the door and was greeted with a spectacular sight that left me breathless.

"Lash?"

She smiled, and it was bright and friendly and perfect. "Hello, Harry."

"How?" I couldn't speak in sentences longer than a syllable.

Another figure, an older black man, stepped into view, and he smiled just as brightly. "Uriel?"

"May we come in?"

I shook my head. "Of course."

I have no memory of moving back into the apartment or sitting down, but then we were there. "You… you're solid?"

"I am… restored," she said.

"I don't - "

"You are looking at Lasciel," Uriel said. "Not a shadow, not an illusion. A full Angel."

"But, you vanished – I felt you go."

"Yes," she said, looking at Uriel. "That was… a unique experience."

"It was a unique set of circumstances," the Archangel said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

The two superior beings exchanged a look. "A redemption," Uriel said.

"Redemption?" My eyes snapped back to my former ride-along partner. She smiled again.

"Lasciel's coin," Uriel said, is gone.

"Gone? But… I thought that destroying the coins was impossible."

"From the outside, yes." He put a hand on Lash's shoulder. "From the inside, that is another story. It may be a long time to show a benefit, but the coin is gone. There are only 29, now. The balance has tipped, finally, in favour of the light."

We talked for a little while more. Or at least I think we did. I know I asked some questions, and I know there were answers. But damned if I can remember what any of them were. I only know I was left with a feeling of great hope. It was enough.

A few minutes after they left, I went to the window and watched the sky change colour as the sun went down. As darkness settled in, there was another knock at the door. I turned, smiling, and headed to answer it. Then I heard Mouse growl, and stopped, looking at him. He was staring at the door, teeth bared. I approached the door more slowly, shield bracelet ready. I pulled the door open.

Standing in the hall, leaning against the doorway, was a perfectly plain looking, non-descript man. He could have been anyone. I'd never met him before, didn't know his face. He wore jeans and a jacket, and a red shirt. It was a bit obvious, really.

I knew who he was.

"Hi, Lou," I said.

"Harry Dresden," he said, and it rolled of his tongue like silk.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, not much you can give me, really. I have to admit, I honestly thought the game was over, this time."

"The game?" I asked. "Oh, of course. Job was the first player, wasn't he?"

"Very good. The stakes double every generation. It finally led to your vanishing act. But yet, you came through. A shame, really, that you're not playing anymore."

"Oh, I'm still willing to play. When you're up for it, you know how to find me; I'm in the book." And I slammed the door in the Devil's face. Things weren't perfect, but they weren't broken, either. And neither was I.

A/N: Thank you. Thank you to everyone who read right from the beginning, and to everyone who found this story after it was finished.

I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope to write another one someday. This one took three years, though, so no holding of breath.


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